


Don’t Delete The Kisses

by Softsangster



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies)
Genre: Adoption, Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Multi, Smut, poly! minho, soft bfs, thomas is kinda soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-05-30 22:22:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15106010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Softsangster/pseuds/Softsangster
Summary: Everyone in Thomas’ life is a polar opposite to himself— his siblings, his parents, his best friends— so it does’t surprise him that the boy he’s madly in love with is nothing like him





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had to republish this because I accidentally deleted the old fic by mistake :(( so please, bare with me here.

Thomas never took the bus. Even on rainy days. Even on the ridiculously hot days when it felt like he was sweating from every single, tiny pore. Even on the days when he had violin practice and he had to carry around that annoying violin case, his art folder, his purple binder that held all of his study notes and a backpack. Even on the days after P.E. where it felt as if his knee caps had become jelly from running track for the whole hour period.

Thomas never took the bus.

Instead, he indulged in the bitter cold in the winter, the blistering heat in summer and the constant weight in his arms as he made his way to and from school. It made him feel more alive, plus it gave him the chance to practice mindfulness (just like he and his therapist had done a few times) and relaxation, even if he was hauling around too many bits and bobs to relax properly.

Thomas used to hate walking or doing anything that took a bit of physical activity, but with gradual baby steps and encouragement from his foster family, he got back onto his feet and made an effort to walk everywhere as often as he was allowed. Sure, his foster mum always worried about him and had offered many times to drive him to school, but Thomas just gently reminded her that it was his therapist’s idea to get him more active without joining a sports club at school. 

So, everyday Thomas walked, his asthma inhaler tucked away into his pocket with his hands at the ready to drop everything he was holding in case he became short of breath and needed his inhaler.

Walking, organising and playing the violin became Thomas’ therapy as he saw his therapist less and less, until his visits just… stopped. He stopped seeing his therapist, but he didn’t stop walking, or playing; Thomas always made sure to keep his healthy coping mechanisms daily habits he did often, so he didn’t spiral back into that void of nothingness again.

Thomas knew what was good for him and what wasn’t. Like not taking the bus. Thomas knew that was more than good for him. It gave him down time, before he got home where it was utter madness a lot of the time. It was loud and rowdy and Thomas could barely hear himself think, even if he was tucked in bed, his door closed, headphones on as he blasted whatever he was in the mood for, he could still hear his siblings screaming bloody murder.

But, a loud home was better than the previous foster homes he’d been palmed off to where he’d made friends with loneliness and accepted the silence he was forcibly faced with.

“Oh, Thomas you’re home! Thank God,” His foster mother beamed, poking her head out of the kitchen before slipping off her apron and taking the violin case off Thomas’ hands. “I was starting to think that something had happened to you.”

“Ma, I’m only ten minutes late. I took a shortcut through the rose garden today, is all.” Thomas shrugged, looking down at his binder. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Of course I’m gonna worry, Tom. You’re my son and what kind of a mother would I be if I didn’t worry at least a little bit?”

Thomas’ foster mother, Chloe, made him feel loved and cared for.

As soon as Thomas had been moved to her house, she welcomed him with open arms, as did his foster siblings, and held him tightly, like she never wanted to let go of him. Chloe made Thomas feel right at home and never bugged him when he got quiet and didn’t want to talk. Instead, she would just sit next to him and hand him a mug of hot (or cold) chocolate, kissed his cheek and reminded him that he was safe. He was okay. He had a family he could trust. He was loved.

Chloe had dark skin and full head of tight curls that she slicked back leaving a thick ponytail to sit on her shoulders. Her eyes were a light brown, just like Thomas’, and they held so much love and admiration for each and everyone of the foster children that had been in her house. And even though she had a biological daughter Rachel, she never chose favourites; everyone was her favourite, or at least that’s what she likes everyone to think.

Along with Chloe, Thomas even had a foster dad that was just as cool as Chloe was. Anthony was his name, but he was in and out of town, so it was hard for Thomas to tell when he could hang out with him and get Anthony to show him how to work a car. A fucking car.

His foster dad insisted that he learn how to drive and that he learnt the very basics of how a car works so if anything goes wrong, Thomas won’t panic completely.

“You’re one of the best foster parents I’ve ever had, but you don’t have to worry about me walking home.” Thomas smiled at the warm feeling he got for simply being cared about.

“Say what you will, but I will always worry about you.” Chloe leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Thomas’ forehead and smiled. “Now then, go shower. You reek!”

Thomas let his mum place his violin case on the table and shoo him upstairs, here he stopped at the top of the stairs and yelled, “Ma, don’t forget that I’m going to Brenda’s later on!”

He only got a muffled hum in reply.

 

Brenda always found a way to make an entrance. She loved turning heads. She loved attention in general. Though Thomas didn’t like attention when he was by himself, he kinda liked it when he was with his best friend. Brenda made Thomas feel invincible at times.

“Hello, my lovely second family. How are we all?” Brenda said sitting herself at the family dinner table, looking rather chuffed.

“Stop just coming into our house without knocking,” Rachel huffed, shovelling mashed potato into her mouth. “It’s weird.”

“I was given a spare key for a reason-”

“Yeah, if Thomas ever needed help and we weren’t here. Not just for showing up whenever you want, dumbass.” Rachel was Brenda’s friend, but they had an odd way of showing their friendship and fondness of each other.

Thomas sighed and pushed his plate to Brenda, so she could finish off what was left on his plate.

He never had much of an appetite.

“Rachel, don’t swear in front of your siblings! We’ve discussed this!”

“Yeah, whatever.” She snorted and muttered to herself.

Thomas kept quiet, only letting out a few chuckles at his youngest foster sister who was very content throwing her food around, babbling to herself, as everyone else around them ate and made a racket.

“Brenda it’s always lovely to see you and I’m guessing that you’re here for my boy, Thomas.” Chloe spoke up, changing the subject.

Sure, Chloe made sure not to give away favourites, but Thomas knew that Brenda was secretly his Ma’s favourite and he didn’t mind one bit.

“Yes, ma’am. We’re having a special sleepover, aren’t we, Tom?” 

And as soon as Brenda had spoken and flashed Thomas a look that meant the complete opposite of what she had said, Thomas wanted to roll his eyes. He knew that they were probably going to get in trouble, but Thomas felt most alive with Brenda, so how could he turn her down?

“Uh, yeah.” Thomas stood up from the table, prompting Brenda to follow his lead and smile gratefully at Chloe. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ma.”

After Chloe said her goodbye’s and Thomas grabbed his overnight bag, Brenda whisked Thomas out the door and into her little, banged up car.

Thomas’ heart was beating at his chest and not because of Brenda’s reckless driving, but because he was scared of what Brenda had in store for them.

“Hey, Brens,”

“Yeah?”

“What did you mean by a ‘very special sleepover’ before? Is Teresa staying over, too?” Thomas questioned with a kind of hopefulness. He wanted to see Teresa tonight. He missed her like crazy.

“Nope. We’re going to a party, but don’t you worry your pretty little head, Teresa will be there.” 

Brenda was cool.

Too cool.

Thomas was surprised that she wanted to be his friend, even after he had accidentally spilt his fruit salad over her before she sat down with him and declared them friends one lunch time.

They were opposites; she smoked, played football for the school and a local club and she was also very loud and proud when it came to her being a lesbian. She wanted everyone to know, which Thomas couldn’t even begin to fathom. But there were things that they shared, like how they both loved to read, they both loved to listen to music at full blast, they both liked the dark (they were both night owls, that would, if they could, replace the sun with just the moon so it was always night time) and they both liked to wear their hair short, but not too short.

“A party. . . Like with alcohol and stuff? You know I can’t drink, Brenda. My therapist said it’s not good for my mental health and stuff.” Thomas huffed. 

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t have to drink, bud.” Brenda chuckled, taking a sharp left. “But aren’t you gonna ask where it is?”

Thomas rolled his eyes, “Where is it, Brenda?”

“Newt’s place. I wouldn’t have brought you otherwise.”

Thomas felt a heat creep up into his cheeks, as his pounding heart didn’t cease, but instead increased to the point where Thomas wanted to cry.

He had a massive crush on Newt, even though they’d never properly spoken before. He was tough and one hell of a panty dropper. Newt kept a hard look to him, rarely smiling when he wasn’t with his friends; he spoke back to teachers and fought anyone that looked at him funny. But that wasn’t what attracted Thomas. It was far from that, actually.

Since Thomas doesn’t take the bus and walks through the park to get home, he sees things and hears things he wouldn’t hear nor see if he were to take the bus. Like, when he accidentally stumbled across Newt one summer afternoon, kicking a ball around with a younger girl. He was smiling and laughing like he hadn’t a care in the world― like he’d shrugged off his ‘mean guy’ skin and left it at school. It was like witnessing a whole new person and Thomas, as he watched from afar, wanted to get to know that Newt.

The softer side of Newt.

The side that Thomas fantasised about in the middle of classes or whenever he had the free time.

But, even though Newt was very openly bi, Thomas wasn’t his type. Or maybe he was. He wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to get too ahead of himself, so for the time being, Thomas wasn’t his type.

“No, no, no, no! Brenda, he doesn’t even know who I am. He. . . He didn’t even invite me!” Thomas whined. “Take me back home or at least back to yours.”

“Oh my god, would you look at that! We’re at Newt’s!” Brenda said, slamming her foot on the brakes. 

That wasn’t far.

Brenda didn’t even wait to hear Thomas out. She just got out of the car and opened Thomas’ door, frowning down at him. “C’mon, babe. He has nice food plus Teresa and I will be there. It’ll be fun, okay? And if you don’t like it after an hour or two, I promise that I will take you home.”

Knowing how stubborn Brenda was, Thomas nodded stiffly and got out of the car, a pout evident on his face. He looked as if he was going to throw a tantrum any moment now, but he just awkwardly trailed behind Brenda, who walked cooly and with a slight smug smile on her face.

Newt’s house looked pretty big, but no bigger than the house Thomas lived in. He wondered if it was because it was just Newt and his sister- not a trillion little kids running around, switching from house to house.

They made it up to Newt’s front door and every bone in Thomas’ body was working against his want to turn around, run away and hide.

Brenda knocked.

Newt answered.

Cooly, of course.

“You’re late.”

Thomas felt his insides churn at hearing Newt’s sweet as honey voice ring in his ears.

“Hello to you too, dickhead.”

“We didn’t wanna start drinking without you, our dearly beloved, but you were taking too long.” Newt snorted and nudged Brenda, who only shook her head and nudged him right back. “And who’s this?”

“My plus one,” Brenda stepped aside, showing the nervous boy off. “Thomas.”

Newt looked Thomas over once, his eyes slowly moving up his body which had Thomas feeling oddly exposed through his thick woollen jumper and jeans. He let out a sigh and stood to the side.

Brenda smiled and gripped Thomas’ hand tightly, leading him towards the lounge where people that Thomas didn’t know, but knew of, stood around. They were smiling, drinks in their hands. Music played from somewhere in the room. And it was at that moment, when Brenda let go of his hand and walked into the crowd of people, that Thomas knew he didn’t belong here.

 

It had been more than two hours and Thomas wanted to go home.

He tried finding Brenda and Teresa, but he was sure that they were probably off somewhere else after going to the bathroom together and then never returning. They’d left Thomas on a couch outside all alone, his nerves stopping him from at least trying to socialise with some people that hung about outside, too. Thomas wanted to get up and leave all on his own, but he was sure that he would get lost. So he relied on Brenda to drive him back home.

Deciding to make himself comfortable, knowing that he wasn’t leaving anytime soon, Thomas shuffled around on the couch and lolled his back to the sky.

He let his heavy lidded eyes glance around the night sky, which was littered in glittering stars. Thomas let out a sigh. He quite liked the dark because it gave reason for the stars shine and for other pretty lights to shine. 

“You want some?”

Thomas snapped out of his staring and turned his head to over his shoulder, to where Newt was standing- well, leaning- a breath of smoke leaving his lips.

Newt was staring directly at Thomas, giving the boy little reason to think that the question was for someone else.

“Uhm, want what?” Thomas’ voice came out hoarse.

With a laugh (that came out as more of a huff), Newt held out a joint. “Needa loosen up a bit, there. Here, have it.”

“I have asthma.”

Newt made a face, but shrugged and took in another puff from the joint he was offering to Thomas. And oh good God was watching Newt lean against his house, whilst smoking that joint the hottest thing Thomas had ever seen. He didn’t know how it was so fucking attractive and had Thomas weak at every joint, but he could care less; he’d never even spoken to Newt before or been able to gawk at him this closely.

“Brenda’s told me a bit about you, y’know?”

Thomas almost died right then and there.

“Oh?”

“Said you were a special kid. Guess having asthma does make you kinda special, doesn’t it?” 

Swallowing thickly, unsure whether Newt was joking or not, Thomas just nodded slowly and turned his head back so he was now looking down at his lap.

“Brenda also said you were pretty good in bed.” Newt added on and Thomas had never wanted to scream at Brenda more than he had now.

How the hell could she say that? Say that he’s good in bed when the most they’ve ever done is drunkenly kissed (well, Brenda was drunk and Thomas was sober, trying to tuck her into bed when she leaned up and snogged him).

“I really don’t know about that.” Thomas said with a nervous laugh, falling quiet when he felt a weight next to him, as Newt sat as close as he could to Thomas. “Brenda wouldn’t know, anyways. We’re both pretty, uhm, gay, so we’ve never― we haven’t ever been together, y’know? She’s got a girlfriend, too. So. . . Yeah. . .”

“Right, right.” Newt nodded, relaxing into the couch and dropping an arm over th back of the couch, right behind Thomas’ head. His voice trailed off.

The joint he had before was no longer in his hands, but he smelt strongly of weed and expensive cologne. Thomas felt his throat go dry, but he still tried to swallow down potential word vomit, which was threatening to come up. He wanted to save himself the embarrassment.

“Usually, I’d say I’m a pretty straightforward guy, but right now I don’t know any less weirder way to ask if you wanna go up to my room and shag. . .”

Thomas stared up at Newt with stars in his eyes.

Did he need his ears checked?

Everyone knew that when Newt wanted something or didn’t like someone/ something, he didn’t beat around the bush. When he liked something, Newt made sure to make a big song and dance about it. When he didn’t like someone, he was usually pretty quick to start a fight, whether it be verbal or physical. And that was one of the things Thomas didn’t like about Newt. His hotheadedness and his bluntness.

But right now, he didn’t mind.

“I’m sorry, but did I hear that correctly-- you wanna have sex? With me?”

“You don’t have to say yes―”

Thomas was quick to interrupt Newt, “But I want to. . . Yes. Yes.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Thomas, there you are!” 

A hand gripped the sleeve of his grey hoodie, pulling Thomas’ attention away from his locker. Out of surprise, Thomas yanked his arm back and stared at the person, Brenda, who had managed to scare the living daylights out of him.

She looked a right mess, her hair -that was usually kept in a straightened bob- was a mess, her cheeks were bright pink and her breath heavy. It looked as if she had run a marathon and fucking smelt it, too, but Thomas tried his best not to cringe and scrunch his face up in disgust. Unfortunately, he must’ve failed at trying to stop himself from showing disgust because Brenda took a step back and let out a huff.

“I just had P.E. Give me a break.”

“Doesn’t the gym have showers, Brens? Or couldn’t you have at least used some deodorant?” Thomas pulled his eyebrows together, now, no longer trying to hide that he could smell Brenda and good god did she reek.

The scent she now carried was a terrible mixture of body odour and sweaty socks that had been left in her locker for a good two or three weeks. Thomas wasn’t sure how Brenda wasn’t collapsing at her own smell, but Thomas had a sick feeling that Brenda didn’t mind it- in fact, she probably loved it. He wouldn’t be surprised; Brenda loved herself more than Teresa loved her (which was a lot), but Thomas found her narcissism rather endearing.

“Yes, but all the girls in there make me feel bad ‘cuz they all know I’m a lady lover,” Brenda grunted out, her hands now at her sides. “And they think, for some reason, that I wanna stare at them when they get dressed, as if I don’t have a girlfriend to stare at.”

“They just don’t understand, Brens. When people don’t understand something they-” 

“Yeah, yeah, save that therapist bullshit for later. They’re just homophobic.” Brenda shook her head and frowned at Thomas, who stared down at her with an apologetic smile. “I also didn’t shower because I wanted to watch you and Resa practice.”

Thomas nodded, knowing that Brenda just wanted to watch Teresa play the violin so she could make inappropriate remarks as she did so, not for him. It was never really for him. Sure they were best friends, but Thomas knew his place as the lucky third wheel and he didn’t mind at all. Well, he probably should mind more, but Teresa and Brenda were his only friends.

They were the only people that tolerated him and made him feel funny. Like with most jokes he told, they laughed. Whether it was just to make him feel good or because he was genuinely funny, he didn’t know nor care. He didn’t want to question their sincerity because he trusted them enough and would hate to have them question him in return. He loved Teresa and Brenda and if that meant feeling like the third wheel sometimes, then so be it.

So with little more spoken between them, the pair made their way to the music room, Thomas’ violin in hand and his brain churning out one million thoughts per minute. Too many to handle. 

Music helped Thomas to cope with a lot of things- all his unspoken thoughts, all the thoughts he couldn’t put into words to speak, all the bad thoughts he had conjured up amidst a hazy rage, or happy thoughts that he couldn’t find an outlet for. Music was a true godsent and Thomas was lucky to have it right at his finger tips to help him with all the things he couldn’t say or express.

But, through all his upset and pessimistic thoughts, there was a thought he could say. One that had been bugging him all weekend.

“Hey, where did you and Resa go on Friday? You guys just. . . left. I had to get a taxi home.” Thomas asked, paused, his hand on the door-handle to the music suite.

Brenda looked up a Thomas, an apologetic look over her face. Now, Brenda never looked at anyone like that, so Thomas knew (and hoped) that she was being genuine. “Oh God, I am so sorry. I left to get us a few drinks and to find Resa then when we couldn’t find you, we went upstairs. . .”

Now, that wasn’t surprising. Thomas had already guessed that was what happened.

He didn’t say anything, but instead just nodded in acknowledgement, walking into the empty suite and gently closing the door behind Brenda.

“When’d you leave?” 

“Early in the morning.” Thomas said, sitting down in the corner of the room, where he and Teresa usually sat to practice, spreading out the few music sheets he had on him.

“The morning? Shit, I thought you would’ve left earlier than that! Like maybe an hour after we got there.”

“Yeah well,” Thomas held the violin up to his jaw, getting himself ready to play his heart out. “Things happened.”

He messed up.

He should not have said that.

Thomas knew that Brenda was close to Newt and his group of mates, but Teresa loathed him. She said that he was too self centered and only cared about how many people he could fuck in a night, which is why she didn’t know about how Thomas felt for him. He was thankful that Brenda knew how to keep her mouth shut at the right times, because Teresa would have already been at Newt’s throat telling him to stop doing whatever it was that had Thomas feeling the way he did.

He also shouldn’t have said anything because he still hadn’t been able to comprehend that he had actually been with Newt; kissed him and all! It was bloody fantastic.

Having Newt fuck him, his hands under Thomas’ thighs with their bodies pressed together, made Thomas feel so alive. Being able to have Newt grunting, groaning and moaning because of him was something out of a wet dream and he wanted to do it again and again and a-fucking-gain. But Thomas had a feeling that it was just a one off that he got lucky and even though what Brenda had told Newt was far from true (because Thomas was no good in bed. Hell, he almost came when Newt first kissed him) it would probably never, ever happen again. Not in Thomas’ wildest dreams. But Thomas was thankful that Brenda said what she said.

 

“What things, Thomas?” Brenda pressed, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

Oh good god, he should’ve just shut his mouth and kept it closed, but with Brenda around it was a lot harder than usual.

“Well. . . Just. . . Just don’t tell Teresa, whenever she decides to get here.” Thomas frowned, wondering when on earth she was going to burst through that door, a stack of new sheet music in her hands. But before Thomas continued speaking, he watched as Brenda nodded eagerly, a bright grin on her face. “Right. . . Well. . . I don’t know how or why it happened, but Newt and I. . . We. . . We, y’know? We did things.”

The grin on Brenda’s face widened and she looked as if she was about to explode with joy and it made Thomas feel less confused and a lot happier with the situation.

“Oh my god, I knew my smooth talking would work! I’m fuckin’ gay cupid, I am!” 

“Babe, stop prying into other people’s business.”

Teresa.

Teresa was finally here and she hadn’t heard what Thomas had said, thank fuck.

She was just walking in when she spoke and was wearing a soft smile, even after pecking Brenda’s cheek and sitting beside Thomas, her smile didn’t falter not one bit.

There was even more sheet music in her hands than last time.

“Sorry for being so late. Ms. Paige is very insistent on me joining her after school orchestra. Y’know, that real lame one? Anyways, she wouldn’t let me leave her office. She pretended not to hear the lunch bell just to hold me hostage in her office. . .” Once Teresa started talking, there was no way to stop her.

Thomas smiled, but when Teresa turned her head away to ready herself to play, Thomas caught the look that Brenda sent him that read ‘You and I are talking later’. He’d gotten that look too many times to count, so he knew it off by heart now.

Thomas bit down on his bottom lip hard and started playing when Teresa did, trying to put his mind elsewhere. Somewhere quieter, somewhere where it didn’t reek of Brenda and somewhere with just him and Newt.

Newt.

His lucky one off.

 

 

A gentle, yet harshly bitter wind hit his skin putting him at ease. Thomas inhaled and exhaled deeply, glad to have made it out of school before Brenda could bombard him with questions. As much as he loved Brenda, he just couldn’t take it and she probably still smelt rancid, too and Thomas most certainly couldn’t handle that anymore. Though, Teresa and Brenda were probably still finding a way to see past her stink and hookup somewhere.

Thomas was alone now and he was happy to be left alone, especially when it came to his calming walks in the park, but today wasn’t as calming.

Sure, it started off calming as usual, Thomas taking deep breaths and just taking in his surroundings, but after Thomas had gotten hit in the face by a soccer ball, it was subsequently ruined.

Thomas stared, red faced, at the ball that had hit him and caused his violin and binder to drop to the ground with a heavy thud. He felt embarrassed that he hadn’t seen that ball coming to his face soone, but Thomas was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t even register it ‘til it had hit him smack bang on his left temple.

“Bloody hell! Sorry! Not too good at getting the goal!” An accented, squeaky voice cried out at Thomas.

It was Newt’s little sister. Or, well, if it wasn’t his sister, his clone.

And, of course, right behind her was Newt, a look of concern evident on his face as he and the girl walked towards him.

“Liz, stop saying that. Just apologise without the ‘bloody’, thanks.” Newt scolded the young girl, who only shrugged and muttered something under her breath along the lines of ‘you say it all the time’, which Newt either didn’t hear or chose to ignore. He turned to look at Thomas, who had lamely picked up his belongings and stared at Newt like he was starstruck. “God, I’m so sorry. Liz doesn’t have very good hand-eye coordination, but she’s getting there. She didn’t hurt you too bad, did she?”

“Uh, no, just surprised me a bit is all.” Thomas sent both Newt and Liz a tight lipped smile. His head was throbbing.

Liz apologised once more, before then happily skipping off and going back to practicing kicking the ball into the goal. She managed to miss again and have it go straight into the surrounding bushes. Liz seemed to be pretty good at the actual kicking, just not the aiming part. It was cute.

“Are you sure, you’re alright? Trust me, I know how much that shit hurts. She’s got quite a kick on ‘er.” Newt hummed, his eyes dancing between watching Liz and studying Thomas.

“No, no. I’m fine, seriously.” Thomas nodded.

Feelings as if he had said too much already and that Newt didn’t actually remember who he was, he started to make his way back home, eager to throw some ice on his temples. He took a deep breath in and let out that same breath. Thomas wanted to calm himself again, but Newt cleared his throat and stopped him by speaking up. His voice hoarse.

Thomas almost lost it right then and there.

“Hey, I, uh, I have your jumper back at my place. Do you wanna come get it? I forgot to bring it to you today.” 

An uncertain feeling settled in Thomas’ stomach because how the fuck was he going to get back home? He was going to make sure that he spent more time with Newt, so if that meant him making his way home via a route he kind of remembered after taking that early morning taxi, then fine. He will.

“Actually, nevermind. My parents have some weirdos over and I’d hate for you to meet them.” Newt spoke, his eyebrows furrowed and his bottom lip jut out. “I can drop it off to you tomorrow. What’s your number?”

Thomas couldn’t believe that Newt was asking for his number, even though his phone was probably jam packed with important numbers from people all over the world and probably outer space, too. “You. . . You remember who I am?”

“I wasn’t that drunk, Thomas and Brenda makes it pretty hard to forget you.” He then smiled past his frown, as if amused by what Thomas had just said. Newt had a beautiful smile. “Anyways, here, put your number in my phone so I can drop your stuff off tomorrow.”

Newt was a lot nicer than people had made him out to be. Maybe it was just because Thomas had caught him at the right time.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

Thomas wanted to kiss Newt silly, but he instead just put his number in his phone and gave Newt a coy smile.

Newt played around on his phone, before glancing up at Thomas to say a goodbye, but he was cut off by a cry. Both Newt and Thomas turned their heads, only to face Liz struggling in the bushes she had previously run into, to fetch her ball.

“Newt, help me! I’m fucking stuck!”

Newt, without saying a word, had already said his goodbye and was already running towards his sister. Thomas took that as his cue to leave, with his cheeks still a rosy red and his mind beginning to churn one million and one new thoughts.

“How many fuckin’ times have I told you not to say that word?”

“You say ‘fuck’ all the time!”

“I do not!” Newt lied. He always swore and everybody knew that, even Thomas knew that.

 

To Thomas, Liz seemed to have more of a personality than Newt. A much bigger one at that. And he found it rather beautiful. He wished he had her confidence and her attitude to just say ‘fuck it’ and keep trying. Even if trying again did mean hitting someone in the head and getting stuck in the bushes, swearing at your big brother to get you out.

 

Thomas wanted Newt even more after bumping into him. He wanted to ask Newt to bring Liz when he dropped his jumper off so Liz could hang out with his siblings, whilst Newt talked to Thomas. Or, better yet, taught them all how to play soccer without them giving up, picking the ball up, and throwing it over Miss. Peach’s fence when the game wasn’t going their way.

But, Thomas was just a one off.


	3. Chapter 3

After realising he was gay, the first thing Thomas did to ‘confirm’ his homosexuality was run straight to the nearest computer, lock his bedroom and look up gay porn. A part of him hoped that he would hate it. That he would wince and scrunch his face up in disgust, not even close to getting hard because it was, to him, weird. Being gay wasn’t something he wanted nor asked for at the time- all the boys at his old schools talked about kissing girls and wanting to fuck girls, too. Whereas Thomas just stayed quiet, nervous, listening.

Once Thomas had finished his wank and realised what the fuck he had just gotten off too, he cried; big, loud sobs. He knew that ‘confirming’ his feelings in such a way was silly, but at the time Thomas had nobody to help him through his confusion and fear so he just did what he considered okay. 

Even after knowing that he was gay and wanted to hold hands with boys and kiss boys and marry one too (especially one boy in his old calc class, Peter. God, did Thomas want Peter to do things to him. Things that weren’t all holding hands and proposals) he continued to refuse to accept what he was feeling. The things his other foster families had said and joked about when it came to being gay, stuck with him, even once he’d moved in with Chloe and her family. Thomas still thought lowly of himself all because of who he loved.

Having small crushes, Thomas had to remind himself, was okay, just as long as nothing is acted on. So he felt kinda okay when he crushed on Minho Lee Parks, probably one of the hottest guys Thomas had ever met, and when he crushed on Zart Müller, a cute quiet boy that Thomas felt like he would’ve gotten along with well. And Newt. God was Thomas infatuated with Newt and even though he was still fearful of his attraction to people, tried to remind himself that it was just a small crush.

Well, that was of course before he and Newt hooked up and he got Newt’s number.

After actually hooking up with Newt, he seemed to be okay, but it was only until he was left alone with his thoughts at 3am that he started to panic and wonder why the fuck couldn’t he just like girls. It’d make his life 10x easier and not to mention that he, Brenda and Teresa would have more to bond over. Girls. But no, he had to like loud, rowdy, smelly and ridiculously hormonal boys that would do literally anything for a shag. (Thomas seemed to have a thing for pretty boys like that). It was unfortunate, really.

Why couldn’t he just like boys that wanted him just as much as he wanted them and like to listen to music, cuddled up together in bed watching the rain fall from heavy grey clouds above.

“Thomas! Hey, you forgot your violin!”

Thomas froze, staring down at his empty arms. He forgot his binder, too. Shocked at his own forgetfulness, he spun around and was met with a smiling Teresa, her blue eyes sparkling, curls bouncing, a large white smile beaming on her face, as she let out a small laugh.

“Thank you, Resa. I. . . I’m so tired today.” He wasn’t. He was just too caught up in his own mind to think of anything or anyone but himself.

“Yeah, yeah it’s alright. I noticed that you were a bit spacy today,” Teresa handed Thomas his violin case which held the expensive instrument, and stared at him with questioning eyes. “You wanna walk home with me and we can talk about it? I miss our little talks, y’know?”

Teresa and Thomas used to walk the same route everyday, talking about everything and nothing all at once. He always looked forwards to the end of the day even more when they walked together, but then she got a car and her and Brenda were a lot more serious now, so they kind of just stopped, but that didn’t stop them from having talks during the week or weekend.

“I, um, actually can’t today. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Too good for me now, huh? Okay, I see how it is. . .” Teresa feigned hurt and turned her nose up at Thomas, causing him to grin and nudge her softly.

“You’re too good for me, miss Teresa Agnes.” It was true. She was. She was far too good for him and he felt lucky to have her in his life. “Isn’t Brenda waiting on you anyways?”

“Yeah probably, but hey, tell Chloe and everyone that I said hi!”

Thomas nodded.

His family loved Brenda and Teresa more than they loved him, well at least that what he thinks and doesn’t blame them.

He had to get home before Newt texted him, which Thomas stayed up til midnight hoping Newt would do. For some reason, Thomas was scared that Newt would laugh at how he and his family live (which is messy. Very, very messy. Hey, it’s not a clean job looking after little kids that only know how to throw mushy banana on the floor and bite or eat anything they can), so he needed to do something to clean up. Or, maybe he just doesn’t invite Newt inside at all. Sure, it’s rude, but it would save them both from the embarrassment.

“Yeah sure. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.”

And just like that, Thomas left the school and leaving a binder full of homework in his locker.

He wanted to sprint, but unfortunately, his asthma and shitty stamina stopped him from doing so. So, he just sped walked cautiously towards the park, hoping that he didn’t get hit by a car or tripped up over himself.

As Thomas sped walked, he wondered if his family knew he was gay. Like, if it was obvious or not. Chloe did say that she had ‘special mum senses’ and that she knew everything, so it wouldn't surprise Thomas if she did know, but at the same time, it scared him. If she knew, was she secretly judging him? Did Anthony know, too? Was he teaching Thomas how to drive cars and fix them up to get him to ‘man up’ or was it because it was just things he should know?

God, Thomas hated that he was so good at overthinking everything. It made him feel weak.

Thomas let out a sigh and combed his free hand through his hair. He really needed to wash it and maybe do that nice face scrub Rachel always talks about because he’s been having breakouts. Letting his eyes shift from house to house, Thomas listened to the trees as they blew in the wind and cars that passed him every now and then. 

He took a deep breath in.

Held it.

One. . .

Two. . 

Three. . 

Four. . .

Five. . .

He breathed out.

Thomas continued his breathing exercises and managed to calm himself down and bask in the beauty of his blissful surroundings.

His therapist would be proud.

Amidst the calm, Thomas still felt uneasy about Newt and him seeing where he lives.

God, why couldn’t he have just asked for Newt’s number instead?

 

**UNKNOWN:** _hey what’s your address?_  
**UNKNOWN:** _if you’re not free right now i can just leave ur stuff in your mailbox or come tomorrow_  
**UNKNOWN:** _also its me newt_  
**Newt:** _is this the right person? Thomas?_

Thomas had never smiled at his phone harder before- not that these messages would’ve made anyone else smile because it was just him being polite, but this was Newt for god’s sake! Sure, he wasn’t the nicest person around, but Thomas was head over heels for him.

**Hey im on 465 oakwood ave. my family’s here but my ma wont mind if you come over :)  
The more the merrier haha!**

Sending that last message made Thomas physically shudder. ‘The more the merrier’. He’s never used that before in his life, so why the fuck was he starting now? Not that Newt probably cared- he never really seemed to care about anything, so there was one bonus to that negative trait of his.

Thomas groaned and fell back on his bed; he’d cleaned it from top to toe, even going as far as doing his laundry, dusting his bookshelf and cleaning under his bed where he found some odd and questionable things. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He could look up ways on how to not send stupid texts to the cute boy who fucked you once, or he could do absolutely nothing and sit and stare at the ceiling until his Ma rapped on his bedroom door to tell him about a boy on a motorbike was waiting for him downstairs.

“Is he blond, Ma?” Thomas croaked out, following his mother down the stairs. “Cuz if not, I don’t know him.”

“Yes he’s blond and he specifically came here asking for you- a mister Thomas Lehmann.” 

Oh, wow, okay. He knows my last name, too. Did Brenda tell him that? Or did he just guess?

His mother continued, “Okay, well not that last part exactly, but he did ask for you.”

Thomas bit back a smile and walked downstairs to where Newt was standing, leather clad, bright pink cheeks from the nippy wind outside, messy blonde hair with a helmet tucked under his armpit. 

“Hey, Newt,” Thomas swallowed hard and bit the inside of his cheek, trying hard not to smile too hard.

“Hey,” He didn’t hesitate to hold out a plastic bag with Thomas’ jumper inside. “Sorry for taking so long-”

“No, No, it’s okay! You came pretty quickly- I mean, like you came here pretty quickly. Not that you came quickly.” Mentally, Thomas was beating himself to a pulp. He managed to turn something that wasn’t inherently sexual, sexual.

Newt snorted and shook his head, thankful that Thomas’ mother had left them alone. 

“Do you, uh, wanna come up to my room? Like, make sure that my jumper safely gets to my laundry basket.” Thomas let out a breathy, stiff laugh.

“It’s already washed, but if you wanna go upstairs, sure.”

Things were awkward.

But, even though things were awkward, that didn’t stop Thomas guiding Newt to his bedroom in silence because he knew that the second he opened his mouth, it was going to be nothing but word vomit. It wasn’t that Thomas hadn’t embarrassed himself enough in front of Newt, it was just the fact that the second he started talking he wouldn’t stop until Newt gives him a look of disgust or pure horror and runs out the door telling all of his friends about him.

“Did you wanna talk to me about something or what? I promised to pick up dinner for Liz and it’s already getting late.” Newt sat on Thomas’ bed, taking in his room; his eyes lingering on Thomas’ violin before then lingering on Thomas.

“I, uh, just kinda wanted to hang out. . .”

“Why now?”

“Huh?” Thomas blinked confusedly.

“Why do you wanna ‘hang out’ with me now? You’ve never wanted to before, right?” Newt was blunt and it left Thomas feeling intimidated.

“I mean, I have wanted to, but I was always too scared to talk to you before you came up and talked to me at yours and we. . . Y’know?”

“Fucked. We fucked.” Newt stood up shaking his head, tucking his helmet under his arm and staring down at Thomas. “I gotta go. Thanks for letting me come in ‘n stuff. Your mother seems lovely.”

Thomas nodded and looked down, upset that he couldn’t find a way to keep Newt to stay with him, so he raked his brain for something, anything. And then, as if a jolt had been sent through him, Thomas almost jumped when he was struck with an idea. One that had his heart thumping like wild, but it was perfect.

Just as Newt stepped towards him, Thomas lifted his head and did the same. Newt looked slightly taken aback, but Thomas just smiled softly, reached out, cupped Newt’s cheeks and kissed him.

Thomas kissed Newt.

Softly,

Slowly,

Carefully.

Newt kissed Thomas back after getting over his initial shock. He let his free arm sit on Thomas’ waist, his fingers moving over his lower back, creeping under Thomas’ belt, causing the boy to let out a small sound of content.

Thomas was basically clinging to Newt because he was afraid that if he got too brave and tried to stand without anything to stable him, that he was going to collapse.

Within only a few seconds, Newt managed to slip his hand down Thomas’ jeans, give his bum a quick squeeze before pulling back and giving Thomas a small smile.

Their lips were the prettiest shades of pink, their pupils dialated and their eyes glistening, their hearts beating fast from the exhilaration of soft lips against chapped lips.

“I wanna do it again, but like, y’know, only if you want.” Thomas spoke, implying that he wanted to have sex with Newt again, scared that if spoke less vaguely about his wants that his family would hear and palm him off to someone else.

“Not right now,”

“Not right now.” Thomas nodded, still cupping Newt’s cheeks.

“I’ll text you or something like that.” And Newt was out the door, starting up his motorbike and zooming off back home, leaving Thomas awestruck and dazed.

He had kissed Newt first.

Thomas did that.

Now, they were going to meet up again.

God, Thomas has never wanted to scream louder, so he pulled out his jumper, wrapped it around his mouth to muffle his screams of happiness.

Thomas was finally getting the cute boy.

Okay, well he wasn’t really ‘getting’ but he was going to hookup with the cute boy and oh boy, did it make him ridiculously happy. He deserves this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dunno where the sudden angst came from but shes there!

“You haven’t told him, have you?”

“What is there to tell, Teresa? We’re okay now, aren’t we?”

Teresa was quiet. 

She bit back all the harsh words she wanted to say and instead, just listened.

She listened as the rain hit against the windows of Brenda’s beat up, old Volvo. It was only now, at midnight, that the rain had started and started off hard.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, Brenda. I really-” Teresa swallowed thickly and shook her head. “I just wish I could pretend it never happened. I really wish I could because I want us to work. I do.”

Brenda rached over and took Teresa’s hand in hers, slowly bringing it to her mouth and kissing her palm sweetly. Teresa shivered, as she felt Brenda’s warm breath on her skin, reminding her of all the night’s they’d spent together; Brenda’s warm breath on every inch of her skin, as she kissed, sucked and licked. It caused a whole flood emotions to flow through Teresa.

It was overwhelming.

“I said and did things that I shouldn’t have and the alcohol made it ten times worse, I know. I’m sorry. I will be forever sorry, Teresa.” Brenda’s voice was muffled as she spoke into Teresa’s hand, holding back whatever emotions she was feeling, too. “Please, _please_ , let me make it up to you and please don’t tell Thomas. It’ll make things even worse.”

“Why can’t I tell him? We’re his only friends and he deserves to know, so do the rest of your friends, right? Let everyone know? I have other friends I need to talk to about this, too, Brenda and it’s frustrating me that I can’t tell anyone. I need solace and the only way I’m gonna get that is by talking to someone that gives a damn.”

“I give a damn— talk to me.” Brenda was almost pleading, tears welling at her eyes.

“If you gave so much as one _damn_ , Brenda, I wouldn’t have walked in on you with your tongue down some other girl’s throat. I love you, but God, you’re really pushing it.”

It was more than that. Teresa had walked in on Brenda, shirt off, another girl right on top of her, her hands down Brenda’s pants the weekend before they’d gone to that party at Newt’s. That scene that she’d walked in on, caused one slightly over dramatic and panicked scream from Teresa, one horrified screech from the girl fingering Teresa’s girlfriend and one other very dazed, confused look from Brenda.

Teresa had yanked the girl from off of Brenda and very roughly dressed her, with Brenda mumbling incoherent sentences the whole time; she didn’t even know who Teresa was, which again, almost made Teresa scream and panic. The whole time, from getting Brenda to the car with the help of Newt, Minho and Ben, Brenda was either vomiting or mumbling about how she didn’t know who they were or who was who.

She was off her face drunk and Teresa was fuming.

The morning after, they’d made a silent agreement to not tell anyone and to stay close at school. For what reason they kept it private, is different. On one hand, Teresa didn’t want to make Brenda out like she was some kind of dirty cheater, but on the other hand she did cheat and needed to tell someone.

“I don’t remember it, Teresa. Seriously, I don’t, okay? And I am so sorry, but I really do give so many damns about you! I always have and I always will! Even if you leave me and find someone better, I will still care about you!” She was good at this. At saying all the right things that made Teresa remember why she’s so head over heels in love with her and even though it makes her happy, she still hopes that from the bottom of her heart Brenda means what she says every single time because Teresa loves her. She does. She really does and it’s so obvious, that even a blind man could see that. “So please. . . talk to me. Let’s work through this.”

Teresa was crying now and Brenda squeezed her hand tightly, as if to reassure her and to let her know that she’s there.

“I don’t know how to feel, right now. I love you, but I’m still so fucking angry at you.” She sobbed, her waterproof mascara doing anything but it’s job and instead rolling down her cheeks in big, black mascara-filled tears. “I don’t know, okay? I just— I need to go home. Sleep. Clear my head.”

“Okay, I’ll take you home.”

Brenda is Teresa’s home and she just wished that it didn’t feel like her home was slowly being torn apart and ruined; and that all the memories, the passion, the lust, the care, and more importantly the love stay in tact. But is her home really worth fixing and help keep together?

Teresa was confused.

She didn’t stop crying. Even when she had gotten home (climbing quietly through her unlatched window because she enjoyed the thrill of sneaking out), got dressed in her jammies and curled up in her mother’s bed, telling her that she’d had an awful nightmare and needed a hug.

 

 

Thomas was alone at school for the next week and his text messages were left either unread or opened and unreplied to by both Teresa and Brenda. So, after deciding that Brenda and Teresa had already had enough of him, he stopped trying, only sending them goodnight messages to let them know that he was thinking of them all the time.

This sudden loneliness, left Thomas with the perfect opportunities to study, practice violin and dwell on the fact that he really had no friends.

_Try joining a club! Or sit with Rachel! I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, would you, darling?_ Anthony suggested, but Rachel did mind and the only clubs Thomas was able to join was track, some allies and lgbts club and the after school helpers.

__**TRACK**  
EVERY TUESDAY, THURSDAY AND FRIDAY.  
MEET DOWN AT THE GYM.  
OPEN TO SENIORS AND JUNIORS. 

An asthmatic and running? Doesn’t sound like a good combo, yet he somehow found himself scribbling his name down on a notice, which had been signed by plenty of other people, too. Thomas wasn’t sure whether he was going to regret this later or really enjoy it, but either way, at least he can tell his parents that he tried.

“I didn’t take you as much of a runner there, Thomas.”

Upon hearing his name spoken, Thomas jumped, dropping the pen he was holding and turning around. He was faced with the pleasant view of Minho and Newt, which almost had him drooling.

Newt was eyeing Thomas up, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, probably unaware to the fact that Thomas was staring right at him. Whereas Minho was grinning brightly, his seemingly too white teeth on full show. It probably looked like they were nothing but good friends catching up in the halls, with Newt on Minho’s wing, as always.

“Mind you, people are full of surprises and you seem full of them.”

_What the fuck does that mean?_

Thomas couldn't figure out whether Minho was just taking the piss or whether he was genuinely surprised at the fact that Thomas was signing up for track.

Thomas laughed stiffly, picking up the dropped pen and handing it to Minho. “Uh, yeah, thanks.”

Minho just smiled, nodded and signed both his and Newt’s name up.

Oh god, really?

_And_ Newt.

Thomas was so fucked.

“See ya ‘round, man.” Minho said over his shoulder, walking away, whilst Newt still stood in his place.

He held Newt’s gaze for only a short second, before he turned his head away. Thomas wanted to move, but he was only staying so he could read the notice board and see if there was any other clubs or extracurricular activities he could sign up for, instead of signing up for track.

“You free later tonight?” Newt asked, still stood in his place, his eyes still all over Thomas, as the boy reluctantly turned to look back at Newt.

He wasn’t sure where this sudden shyness was coming from when he’d been the one to initiate a kiss between him and Newt not so long ago. So, Thomas was stumped as to why he couldn’t just stare Newt down and do it with confidence. Like, a lot of confidence.

“I mean, yeah. Yeah, I am. Why?” Thomas knew exactly why. Well, he thinks he knew exactly why.

“You have biology, right? With that old weirdo? The rat looking guy?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Great. Come to mine later on and we’ll study together.”

Okay, or maybe Thomas didn’t know exactly why.

“. . . Sure.”

 

Turns out, Thomas was right the first time. He knew exactly why Newt wanted him over and it certainly wasn’t for study. He’d learnt that the second he’d shown up to Newt’s with a bookbag full of study material, feeling kind of bummed that he was here for just studying, before Newt gave him a questioning look. After getting shown up the stairs to Newt’s room, Thomas very awkwardly shuffled around and froze when Newt leaned down to kiss him.

That’s when he knew there was no study involved.

Even as Newt was removing both his own and Thomas’ clothes, his lips working Thomas’ neck, that the boy asked, “Are you sure we’re not gonna study?”

Newt was something of a rough guy, but he seemed to be nothing but gentle with Thomas. He was slow to stroke Thomas to first get him off, he was gentle as he sucked on Thomas’ pale skin, he was soft when he grabbed Thomas’ hips to fuck him so hard he could barely breathe. (Thomas was almost about leap away from Newt to grab his inhaler, but he figured he’d be okay without it, because asking “Uh, yeah hey, this feels great but can you stop so I can get my asthma inhaler?” isn’t so much of a turn on as it is a turn off, Thomas felt.)

God, it felt so good to be Newt’s for just a moment. It made Thomas feel a whole mix of things, but he mainly loved it. He loved that Newt had him wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it. He loved that he got to spend time with Newt in the most intimate way possible, though he just wished that he could be with Newt in other intimate ways, too; like cooking together, or going for a stroll with each other on the beach holding hands, or listening to what kind of music he likes.

What Thomas wanted he never usually got, so he wasn’t holding his breath.

Newt probably just wants a quick fuck before he moves onto someone else who can do so much better than Thomas, who just takes whatever Newt gives him. Thomas lies on the bed, clutching the bedsheets, screaming out Newt’s name again, and again, and again, and again until he cums all over his jumper. Coincidentally, the same jumper that Newt had brought over to Thomas’ house not so long ago.

Thomas was starting to believe that this was his good luck charm when it came to Newt.

“Shit, that was amazing.” Newt was panting, as he smiled down at Thomas.

Without a word, Thomas nodded in agreement.

He still had a fistful of Newt’s sheets, trying to catch his breath and trying not to curse at the fact that his good luck charm jumper now had cum on it and that was his only warm shirt. Thomas sure as hell was not going to wear that back home knowing full well what he’d done in and on it.

“You okay, Thomas?” Newt shook his head, when Thomas only nodded and smiled a dopey smile up at Newt. 

“I’m just trying to catch my breath again, is all. That really was amazing, Newt.”

Thomas slowly sat up as Newt shuffled around his room, now, still completely naked, which had Thomas beet red. Newt was a good looking guy with a good looking body too, so Thomas’ reaction was fully justified.

Newt hummed and then sat next to Thomas on the side of the bed.

The blond was fully unclothed, but Newt’s desperate hands had only managed to get Thomas’ trousers off of just one leg, leaving him in his jumper and even socks.

“You really thought I wanted to study, huh? I don’t even show up to school half the bloody time.” Newt said with a light, amused laugh.

Without thinking, Thomas opened his mouth and let whatever word vomit he had to just spew out of him,“I don’t really enjoy school, y’know? I don’t have friends and I’m not good at math so it sucks sometimes, but if you ever want a tutor or study buddy, I’d love to be just that.” 

“Don’t think I’ll be needing a study buddy anytime soon, but I do think we should do this again. It was fun.”

“Yeah, fun. Okay. Just call me. I’m usually free. I don’t do a lot after school ‘n’ stuff. . .” Thomas nodded and shrugged, tired and achy.

It was quiet for a moment.

“You can stay, y’know? Have a shower if you want or get a drink. No rush.”

As sweet as that was, Thomas had a feeling that Newt wanted nothing more than to get rid of him. So, he just stood up, shook his head and dressed himself in a hurry, trying his hardest not to hold himself up, before saying a quick goodbye and stumbling back home. 

The second Thomas had gotten to the end of Newt’s street, he reached into his bookbag for his asthma inhaler and took a big breath of it, relaxing.

“Oh my fucking god,”


	5. Chapter 5

“There you go, Tom. . . Deep breaths, bud.” Teresa finally showed up to school, only a few days after Thomas had foolishly signed himself up, an asthmatic, to join the track team. See, if it wasn’t _all are welcome! As long as you’ve got two working legs, you’re welcome! Honestly, you could have three legs or be in a wheelchair for all we care, as long as you can successfully make it around the track, you are welcome!_ Thomas wouldn’t have signed up, but he wanted to be apart of something and to impress his family. Fuck asthma for ruining that for him now.

Now, Thomas was off to a good start -some might even say great- but as soon as he made one lap, he felt his breathing become heavier and that taking in breaths was suddenly a task. His chest has tightened, feeling as if someone had reached a hand around both of his lungs and windpipe and squeezed, squeezed, squeezed, leaving him nothing but a short breathed, almost collapsing in the middle of the track field, sweaty mess.

Thankfully, Thomas had asked Teresa to watch his first meet and to get feedback from her (because she could be critical when she needed to be). Unfortunately for Thomas, he kind of maybe already knew that criticism he was going to get was going to be utter shit. As soon as she had seen Thomas struggling and clenching the chest of his jumper, she dropped everything and sprinted down the bleachers to Thomas’ aid, an asthma inhaler in hand.

Thomas loved Teresa.

She quite literally dropped everything just for him.

“Now then, you wanna tell me why you chose to join track when the book club or school orchestra was right there?” Teresa had an arm wrapped around Thomas’ shaky shoulders, holding him close and tightly. She kissed his forehead softly and made sure that his breathing was okay again and that he was warm. Teresa was the mother Thomas never had but dreamed of, in disguise as his best friend.

“I joined because I thought it would be fun, I dunno.” Thomas shrugged meekly. “I don’t have any friends here apart from you and Brens so I thought that this might help, but I’m pretty sure they think I’m an idiot. An asthmatic idiot who thought _hey, let’s give intense running a go and put that asthma to the test!_ ”

A small laugh came from Teresa, as she shook her head out of nothing but pure amusement for her boy. “There are other ways to make friends other than putting your poor, poor lungs at risk, Tom. Thought I should just throw that out there.”

“Yeah, I know.” Thomas frowned and almost smiled at Newt, who sent a glance his way, before Thomas turned his head up on Teresa’s shoulder to face her. “Are you okay? Like, really okay? If there’s something going on, y’know that you can always tell me. You’re allowed to rant, too.”

She was quiet for a moment, her piercing blue eyes gazing out and up to the grey sky.

Thomas’ eyes did the same.

It was then that Thomas wished more than ever to fly; to fly right through those clouds, that Thomas could only imagine as what it would feel like to walk through a room thick with cobwebs. He wished to fly through the cobweb clouds and play with the cherubs carelessly, forgetting about his school and asthma. God, now that would be fun. Just being able to fly and not give a damn.

Maybe, just maybe, Thomas had a thought (for only a split second) that he will live his next life as a bird, so he can be as free as a bird and really experience what flying through the cobweb clouds would feel like.

“I’m okay, Tom. I just needed some time to myself and Brenda’s okay, too, y’know.” Teresa really had no idea because she ignored every message that Brenda had sent her, only spending her time meditating with her mother, Mary Agnes, and going on long walks through the dense bush just to clear her wild mind.

She felt at peace. She felt like she had control now; she had control of herself and how she reacted to everything thrown her way now, which means that she was in control of how her reaction will affect the situation at hand.

“Oh thank God, ‘cuz I was starting to get really worried. My ma said that you were okay and she’ll be pleased to find out that she was right.”

“I’m so sorry for making you worry. I-I didn’t mean to make you worry. I probably should’ve called back, shouldn’t I?”

Thomas nodded against her shoulder. “Yeah, but hey. To make it up to me, you and Brens can come ‘round to mine tonight and we can binge watch cheesy rom-coms. . .”

Teresa smiled fondly at Thomas and nodded. “Sounds good.”

 

Brenda didn’t show up or reply to Thomas’ texts and he was making a mental note to himself to go around to hers to make sure that she was okay. Also, Thomas had noticed that Teresa didn’t really mind, which made him frown but ask no further questions. Instead, he and Teresa cuddled up on his bed, fully decked out in matching pyjama tops and bottoms (ones that they found on sale and brought, but just in different colours. Teresa had the pink striped jammies, Thomas green and Brenda blue. They matched.) and watched old Audrey Hepburn films; giggling and awwing at all the right parts.

Thomas finally relaxed and was excited that his weekend was off to a good start.

Thomas loved Teresa.

She was everything to him- even though, he felt like a third wheel at times, he still loved both Brenda and Teresa to bits. Teresa made sure that Thomas was okay and by that, she always meant _‘are you happy today, Tom?’ ‘did you meditate today, Tom?’ ‘is everything at home okay, Tom?’ ‘did you eat today, Tom?’_ and she never once acted as if she weren’t listening and she made sure to remember everything.

Who didn’t love Resa? Nobody because everybody loved Teresa. Well, maybe not the girl who keeps stealing her scrunchies after P.E. and gets yelled at every time Teresa catches her red-handed (she hand makes them herself, so you can see where the anger comes from).

“God, what I would do for a wardrobe like Audrey’s. . .” Teresa huffed, sinking back into Thomas’ pillows, humming along to the end credits of _My Fair Lady_.

Thomas closed his laptop and grinned brightly. “One day, Resa.”

“Mmm, now would be nice, actually!” She rolled over and faced Thomas, who was now facing her. “The pinks, the creams, the nudes; oh god and the dresses, don’t even get me started.”

Before Thomas could open his mouth to retort, his phone went off.

Now, his phone was a little shitty touch screen one, where the camera was extra pixelated and it took 5 minutes for an app to load and not to mention, the only people he gets messages from are Brenda and Teresa, his Ma or Pa, or his other ‘family’ members who would only rarely call or text on his birthday or christmas. So he was more than surprised when it wasn’t a text from Brenda, but Newt.

Thomas bit his lip and made sure to keep the screen away from Teresa’s peering eyes.

_**Newt:**_ _you free?_  
no sorry :( with Teresa right now! you okay?

_**Newt:**_ _fine_

_**Newt:**_ _when r u free????_  
Tomorrow :)

_**Newt:**_ _cool. come to mine at 6_  
are we studying this time?

_**Newt:**_ _lmao no_  
Okay see you then!

Thomas went bright red.

“What’s that smile for? Who’re you messaging?” Teresa let out a laugh and nudged Thomas, before he dropped his phone and chucked it somewhere on the floor.

Knowing full well that Teresa didn’t like Newt and would especially dislike him even more for wanting a quick fuck with Thomas, he shook his head, but kept that same dopey smile. “Ma just told us to shut up. Said you were being too loud.”

“Bullshit! We’ve been up ‘til three am playing that shit rave playlist you put together at full volume and your family didn’t care!” Teresa sat up, maybe in realisation or maybe because she needed the sitting space to emphasise her actions more. “Are you seeing someone?. . . C’mon, Tom. . .”

Thomas just laughed and shook his head because the sudden thought of being with Newt had him giddy and high off joy. He was more than excited to be with Newt tomorrow and ecstatic to be spending time with his best friend.

 

Rapping hard against the door, Thomas got no response. And after getting nothing as a response, Thomas quickly sent both Brenda and Teresa texts, before knocking again. This time, harder. Thomas was worried.

Brenda didn’t answer the door.

_**Brends <3:**_ i’m ok. i’m w/ my aunt rn. don’t worry abt me x  
i love you. please call me back  
_**(seen)**_

 

Newt really liked kissing and bum grabbing.

He was a damn good kisser and bum grabber, too. He had one hand moving up and down Thomas’ back, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt, before he pulled back from kissing Thomas and took it off. Newt knew what he was doing and Thomas could tell not by his body count that had been gossiped about (which he knew was a lot, but never looked into because that would be. . . weird and invasive) but by how he managed to so smoothly take control and have Thomas from sitting on his lap, to on his back, shirtless and now pantless.

While Newt knew what he was doing, Thomas had a rough idea.

He’d been with other boys before. Real mean, sex loving boys. They didn’t care for the foreplay, but just for the part where they got off. They didn’t care much for Thomas and Thomas didn’t care much for himself then, either; they were the kind that would gladly hold a knife to his throat without anyone asking in public, then be all over him behind closed doors. Boys like that made Thomas like less of a human and more of a Thing.

At that time that’s all Thomas was.

A Thing.

But here, with Newt, even though they weren’t dating and Newt for sure didn’t reciprocate the same feelings as Thomas, he felt safe and that Newt wanted to make sure that Thomas got off too. 

Thomas loved feeling like less of a thing and more of a. . . Well, the opposite of whatever that was. Thomas was still trying to get his feelings in order.

“I’m sorry about your jersey,” Newt groaned, moving his hips against Thomas’ and kissing him harder.

Thomas pulled back and frowned.

“Why? What happened to it?”

“The last time you were here, Thomas. . . I would’ve offered you one but you’d left already.” Newt pulled back and said with a snort, causing Thomas to bite back a small laugh because he’d never heard that before.

Mind you, he hadn’t heard Newt laugh much at school either. Sure he’d hear it if his timing was right and Newt was playing in the park with his little sister, kicking a ball around and laughing whenever she shot the ball right into the bushes.

“Oh,” Thomas went bright red.

Then before he knew it, they were kissing again.

Hot and rough kisses that had Thomas completely weak.

Thomas had no idea what the fuck he was doing with his tongue, but Newt didn’t seem to mind his (probably very,) slobbery, too much tongue kisses. 

Newt sucked at his neck and left hickeys that Thomas would never be able to explain to his mother, the rest of his family or even Teresa.

Then, he left a trail of wet kisses down Thomas’ torso. Newt was slow and careful, as if wanting Thomas to really remember how it felt to have his lips everywhere, so the next time he looked in the mirror Thomas would remember this night clearly.

And just as Newt was about to kiss Thomas again, a loud knock was heard before someone barged in.

That someone being Minho. 

“Hurry up, man! We’re leaving soon! I wanna have a cone before we go!”

Newt yelled a string of profanities, before lobbing a pillow at Minho who only laughed and laughed even harder when he saw Thomas lying naked on Newt’s bed; that made Thomas self conscious, so he just swallowed hard and tried his best to cover himself up, but that was rather hard, with Newt still hovering over him.

“Give me half an hour and fuck off, ya prick!”

Then, once the door was closed, it was back to kissing as if nothing had happened.

Newt fucked Thomas and didn’t take his sweet, sweet time like Thomas would’ve hoped.

 

When Thomas had made his way downstairs to leave, he was greeted with a group of mean looking boys and girls, who were laughing amongst themselves. Thomas felt small next to them and he felt even smaller when they all caught a glimpse of him and connected the dots, barking out laughter, as if sleeping with him was some kind of a joke.

Thomas felt really small.

So, he made a quick exit from Newt’s, trying his hardest not to think about the way Newt’s friends laughed at him.


	6. Chapter 6

Trying to hide a hickey is a lot harder than Thomas remembered. Mind you, he’d rarely had to hide hickies because the boys he used to sleep with never used to leave them, or not anywhere visible at least. Thomas had tried very technique on the internet and still, nothing. Even the concealer he’d bought cheaply at a store on the way home wasn’t doing its job of concealing; the bruises stuck out like a sore thumb. No turtlenecks or ‘subtle’ attempts to cover his neck were going to do the job. So, Thomas had to just sit it out.

It was obvious that out of everyone who could’ve noticed, Rachel knew exactly what had happened. She stared Thomas down at dinner, her eyes full of curiosity, with a glimmer of amusement before pulling him aside when he was heading upstairs to have a shower.

Rachel hooked her arm through Thomas’ and dragged him up the stairs, Thomas too tired to even protest. She slammed her bedroom door and looked down at Thomas, who just let out a small huff and sighed.

“Who gave you those,” Rachel said pointedly at the hickey that was sitting just a little over the collar of his grey turtleneck jersey. “And how long ago?”

“Just someone, okay? It’s really none of your business.” Thomas said tiredly.

He couldn’t say Newt, not because Newt would care, but because Thomas still hadn’t told anyone in his family that he was gay and that whenever the topic of sex came up, he knew exactly what went where, yet he acted as if he had no idea.

“Uhm, as your big sister it is fully my business. I need to know who to look out for at school and who to pussy punch if they hurt you!” Rachel sat the foot of her bed and Thomas took the chair at her desk. He then picked up one of the squishy nicknacks she had on her desk, and squeezed it, rolled through his fingers and pulled at it.

“I can’t really tell you Rachel. . . I’m sorry, but I can’t.” 

He could. Rachel loved Thomas to bits and knew how to keep a secret. But he refused to let her know. Or anyone for that matter. God only knows how they could all react and Rachel could one day decide to use him not being out as bribery or to get back at him.

Okay, that was a stretch, but that fear was ever present.

“You can! I can keep a secret.” When there was gossip and Rachel didn’t know, she would do the absolute most just to get a few breadcrumbs to sink her teeth into. She was funny like that. “I won't tell a single soul that I know. I won’t even tell the person you’re seeing. . . I promise.”

Thomas was weak.

“Rachel. . .”

“C’mon, bud. I pinky promise. . .”

A pinky promise in Thomas’ eyes used to be the end deal. If you ever broke a pinky promise in Thomas’ book, you were never to be trusted again. Mind you, he was too weak and always pinky promised with the wrong people and he always went back to them and pinky promised again.

He let out a breath through his nose and bit his bottom lip, contemplating now.

Rachel was trustworthy and Thomas knew that-- like when she had kept a secret about the fact that it was him who had broken Rachel’s grandmother’s old vase, not one of her old, bung eyed cats. And when Rachel didn’t tell Anthony or Chloe that it was Thomas who had forgotten to take the pots and pans out of the oven and accidentally left them in whilst he baked a cake (he didn’t see the pot until he smelt burning and spotted half melted pot handles).

But this was about him being gay for God’s sake. Not some broken vase or the half melted handle of a shitty pot. It was his sexuality. His sex life. It could make or break his relationships with people at home.

“If I tell you, Rach, you cannot tell a single soul, okay?” Thomas said, raising his eyebrows.

Did he really want to take this risk? This jump into finally coming out to his family (or, well, sister)? He kind of did, but at the same time he didn’t want to.

Rachel nodded her head firmly, before then smiling at him softly. “I promise.”

“Okay. . . Good. . .” He was preparing for an onslaught if Rachel had suddenly decided that the time was right to hate him for it. 

A deep breath.

A nervous glance at Rachel, again.

Another deep breath.

Okay, I’m ready.

“I’m gay, Rachel.” The words felt so foreign mutter, even to Teresa and Brenda it still felt odd.

The room fell silent and Thomas had refused to look up at Rachel, who was beaming with pride at her brother, her eyes going glassy. 

Thomas held his breath when he heard Rachel step closer to him. He was ready. Deep breath. In and out. Another deep breath.

Rachel leaned down and embraced Thomas so hard it felt as if all the air in his lungs were going to leave him. This is the opposite of what he had readied himself for. There was no onslaught of harsh words, or roughly thrown fists at him. So he hugged her back.

“ _Oh my God, I knew it._ ” Rachel breathed out, smiling into the crook of Thomas’ neck as they both stood up to make the hug less awkward.

Thomas only laughed and swallowed back tears.

He came out.

Holy shit, he finally came out to someone other than his two friends.

And he was accepted, too.

Rachel pulled back and smiled brightly. She had a tear streaked face and never did Rachel cry openly for Thomas to see. He didn’t realise that his coming out was going to make her emotional too. “Okay, so who am I kicking in the nuts, then?”

“Newt,” Thomas said without any hesitation. This caused Rachel to freeze on the spot, her smile faltering. She gave Thomas a confused smile and shook her head ‘no’, as if to tell Thomas that he was wrong. _No Thomas. You’re not with Newt. You can’t be. You aren’t._ “What?”

“You’re seeing Newt? Newt Ross?”

Thomas nodded meekly.

“He’s gonna hurt you, Thomas. . . I know it. He hurt Aris and he hurt Beth and he’ll hurt you, too. He doesn’t care.” 

Rachel only wanted was best for him and Thomas knew it and he knew that Rachel wasn’t wrong either. Newt didn’t care. Newt will hurt him. But Thomas liked him. And he liked Newt a lot.

“I know, Rach.” Thomas shook his head and hugged Rachel harder. “I know. But you just can’t tell anyone, okay? Not even Resa.”

Rachel nodded into the crook of his neck. “I promise.”

 

Violin practice with Teresa was quieter than usual, even though they were playing some God awful, pitchy songs. They both knew that it was because Brenda wasn’t there and when Thomas went to ask Teresa about what had happened, she only gave him a shrug and sigh in reply and then left the room. Thomas felt so utterly lost and so out of the loop too. He hated not knowing and he hated it when he just knew that there was something going on, but nobody would tell him anything.

After Teresa had left the room, Thomas played until the rest of lunch was over then headed to his locker. He had Maths next, a subject he was God awful at and hated. So, as he went to take the books from his locker, he let his eyes wander for a bit, trying to take as long as he could getting to class. He managed to spot groups of people saying their goodbyes and see you laters, a very lost looking girl with two braids sprint past him in the hall and _him._

Newt.

But he wasn’t alone. He never usually was alone, anyways.

By the looks of it, he was smooth talking a beautiful girl with long pink hair and dark, almost black roots. She was a bit on the chubbier side and had a smile brighter than the sun. She had her arms wrapped around Newt’s shoulders, his hands resting perfectly on her bum, the pair of them whispering into each other’s ears.

She was blushing like mad and laughing hysterically, as was Newt.

Then he nuzzled more into her neck, squeezed her bum, which caused a loud yelp to come from her before she broke out into teary laughter.

Thomas felt his heart break.

He didn’t realise that Newt had a girlfriend or was seeing other people.

Thomas bit his bottom lip and trudged to class. 

He didn’t know why he was so surprised, though. Thomas knew what Newt was like (from what he had heard through the grapevine), so why was he getting so upset? It’s not like they were ever exclusive. It’s not like Thomas wasn’t anything but another person to Newt. Thomas wouldn’t be surprised if Newt just stopped texting him or calling him.

Newt had Thomas so whipped and oh God did Thomas wish that he knew how to keep his feelings in check, because Newt was probably going to hurt him. 

Rachel was never wrong. Never.

 

“Sweetheart, I know something’s going on and I want to know.”

“Ma, please. I’m okay-” Teresa lied through her teeth.

“Don’t lie to me, Teresa. I’ve been your mother for almost nineteen years now; I can read you like an open, well annotated book.” Mary sighed, reaching across the dinner table to rub Teresa’s forearm carefully. “You’ve been calling home sick, you’re missing classes, you don’t play before you go to bed anymore. . . I know something’s off. . .”

Teresa was stubborn and even though she wanted to spill her guts to her mother, she refused. She didn’t want her mum to give her advice that she already knew. She didn’t want to have to confront her problems yet.

Going to school was exhausting and Teresa couldn’t handle the pressure. With Brenda and her going through trying times and her dad recently reaching out to her, it was confusing. Now, not once had Teresa slowed down, stopped and asked for help.

She blamed being tired or confused as her excuse for not asking for help.

Though, Teresa knew that the real reason she didn’t want to reach out for help was, because talking about her current situation would send her into hysterics.

She loved Brenda and missed her so fucking badly, but again, she was confused and stuck in this awful mental turmoil of emotions and tears.

Then there was her dad.

After years of not hearing from him, he just rang Mary up, demanded he be put on speaker phone and spoke so both Teresa and Mary could hear him. He wanted them to come back to Germany; he sobbed and he cried, saying that he had done wrong and the girls just listened. They were both too struck with surprise to say anything, but thankfully Mary spoke up. Teresa can’t remember the rest.

Life was just coming at her, full throttle, with no intent to hit the brakes anytime soon.

Teresa stood up, carrying her plate to the sink, before turning around and kissing her mother’s forehead sweetly. She wanted nothing more than for her mother to wrap her protective arms around her and tell Teresa that everything will be okay. “I’m really tired, Mama. . . I’ll wash the dishes in the morning.”

“Ich liebe dich,” Mary breathed out. She never spoke German, deciding to leave all memories of their past behind. 

“Ich liebe dich auch, mama.”

Teresa walked away, a hand over her mouth to stop her from crying. Even when in the shower, she bit on her lips to restrain her hiccups.

The perfect remedy for all of this would be to cuddle up on the couch with herself, Brenda and Thomas, sharing an extra large cheese pizza, watching TV. But, unfortunately, she felt as if she was never going to get that ever again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life has been hectic and I had been run dry for any ideas, but thankfully I have my saviour Ava to help! I hope this chapter is sufficient enough to last for another few weeks before i push out another (hopefully REALLY long) chapter x

She felt stupid.

She felt really fucking stupid, actually.

First she goes against her promise to Teresa -to be with her and her only, for as long as they were together- and now she’s lying to her best friend, just to isolate herself even further. Brenda knew, my God did she know, that she was making one big mistake after another, but she just didn’t know what to fucking do.

She can’t even remember that other girl, which she was thankful for. She can’t even remember the look on Teresa’s face as she pulled the pair apart, which she was also thankful for because seeing Teresa heartbroken hurt Brenda; Seeing the way her eyes would’ve widened with fear and anger, hearing the apparent scream she let out at the scene. All of that would’ve killed Brenda, more than the situation already has.

After that, Brenda vowed to never touch a drop of alcohol again. Ever. No matter how tempting.

The temptation to drink was more prevalent than ever, but instead of drinking Brenda slept, ate, binge watched Grey’s Anatomy (but only the episodes she’s already watched because her and Teresa always watched them together) and conjured up ways to apologise to Teresa. Thankfully, Brenda had come up with a few ways to apologise, but she needed to do more and she knew that.

So, with a bouquet of flowers and a long, lengthy letter neatly folded up into a pink envelope, Brenda made her way to Teresa’s.

Her head was spinning, so she drove slowly and with more care.

Brenda knew that a few fucking flowers and a piece of paper weren’t going to fix anything, but it could be a start. . . Or not.

She let out a deep breath and got out of the car, her knees weakened at just the thought of Teresa. A sudden wave of nervousness washed over her, before Brenda started walking. She opened the gate and walked to the backdoor and much to her surprise, when she stepped onto Teresa’s lawn, there she was. Hunched over a raised flower bed, a large hat on her head, and soft hums coming from her direction.

Teresa was an angel. 

Brenda bit her lip, before nervously opening up her mouth. “Teresa. . . Hi.”

Teresa flinched and stared at Brenda, her eyes glassy and her cheeks red under all the dirt she had managed to cover herself in. With slight hesitation she stood up, dusted herself off and walked towards Brenda, who felt stuck to the earth.

“Hey,” Teresa’s voice was shaky. “You okay?”

“No. I’m not okay. . . I brought you these,” Brenda handed Teresa the flowers and the letter. “I’m not good with words, so I had to write it all down.”

Teresa just nodded and stared down at the flowers in her hands.

“I am so fucking sorry, Resa. I love you so much and what I did. . . I fucked up. I really fucked up, but I’ll do whatever I have to do in order to let you know how sorry I am.” Brenda continued, teary eyed and sniffling as she spoke.

“You were drunk. I get it.”

“I take full responsibility for what I did. Alcohol and me don’t agree, I’ll admit that, but it’s my fault.”

“Okay. . . Well. . . Thank you for all of this, Brenda. I appreciate it.” Teresa nodded stiffly and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ll see you ‘round.”

Brenda’s heart sank.

“No, please. Let’s talk now. I love you so much, you don’t understand!” She was sobbing now, ready to drop to her knees to beg for her forgiveness.

“You think I don’t understand? Brenda I love you so fucking much and I’m really struggling here, too y’know? And I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Yes you do. I know you do, so please. I don’t care what you have to say, but please just say something.”

Teresa paused, bit her cheeks and sighed. She slipped off her gloves, threw her hat onto the deck and made a gesture to let Brenda know to follow her inside.

If Brenda wanted to hear Teresa talk, then she was going to talk and give her the absolute truth.

 

“Hey, Lizzy. How was school?” Newt asked, throwing her little pink My Little Pony backpack over his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her small shoulders and held her close.

He felt her shrug. “It was okay, I guess.”

“Uh-oh, what happened? Which of these twelve year olds do I need to fight?”

“I’m fine, Newt. I promise.”

She was lying and Newt could tell. I mean, anyone could tell that Lizzy was lying. She wore a glum look, which had replaced her usual bright smile and ‘bounce off the walls’ attitude.

“Elizabeth. . .”

“Okay, fine!” She looked up at Newt, a pout on her face. “They won’t let me join the soccer team. The coach said it’s boys only and I tried to show him that I’m really good at defending, but he kept saying no! I’m really fuckin’ good at soccer, but it’s always stupid boys this and stupid boys that.”

Newt was fuming.

Liz had talent. She knew her way around the field. And yes, maybe they were still working on her kicking goals, but that didn’t take away from the fact that she was deserving.

“I’m coming in tomorrow morning to talk to this cunt.” Newt wanted to jump the guy because seeing his little sister teary eyed over not being able to what she loved, broke him. “You will play on that team and you will play better than any of those boys, okay? I promise.”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t think I’d make it on the team anyways.”

Hearing Liz speak down to her talents broke Newt. She usually gushed about how great she was, hell she was even gushing before. But that coach. That cunt of a man had made Lizzy doubt herself and her abilities just because she was a girl. Newt would bet that Liz could the whole team out single handedly.

Newt was going to make sure that she made it onto the team.

 

“Can you believe it? ‘Boys only’! What kind of bullshit is that?” 

Newt was high, as was Brenda, Minho and Ben.

They were all smoking joints, a bag of grapes and Dortios tucked under Ben’s arm, the small group trying to let go of today’s problems; Brenda’s still being Teresa and the fact that they hadn’t gotten anywhere, Minho because of the traffic and Ben because his parents were fighting. Again.

“Fucking bullshit, man.” Ben, the blond huffed, his heavy lidded eyes opening and shutting. He was trying his hardest to resist sleep.

“Hey, you know what else is fucking bullshit?” Minho chimed in, looking up from rolling himself a new joint. This got everyone else’s attention, including Newt’s. “My inability to roll a blunt- here, Newt, roll this for me. The filter. . . It won’t stay in.”

Newt lazily reached out and sat up straight against his headboard, spreading his legs over Brenda’s lap. He could roll a joint with his eyes closed, his hands tied behind his back and his mouth gagged. Everybody trusted him to roll the best. So, without any fuck ups, Newt rolled it and handed it back to Minho who grinned brightly.

With a heavy grunt, Newt fell back onto the soft pillows of his bed.

He was horny.

Really horny.

But fuck he was so tired.

He cursed to himself for deciding to get high before calling someone, probably Thomas (because he always seemed to be the most eager to stay the night) to have a quick shag.

“Hey, Brens,”

Brenda jumped and let out a soft ‘huh’, finally coming back to earth, and staring down at Newt.

“You were absolutely right about Thomas bein’ a good shag. Bloody fantastic, he is.”

Brenda let out a laugh and snort, “Yeah I heard that you two hooked up a while ago.”

“Prolly gonna see him again soon. You reckon he’s free tonight?” Newt huffed, a cheeky smile over his lips as his eyes crinkled, that small spark of amusement in his eyes.

“Dude, shut up.” Minho rolled his eyes.

“Wait, you’re seeing him again? Are you two a thing now or what?” Brenda spoke over Minho, her eyebrows narrowed and her lips pulled into a frown.

Newt shook his head. He barely knew the kid. Thomas seemed sweet, really, but Newt and him were complete opposites. Not to mention that Newt doesn’t do anything other than friends-with-benefits. So, Thomas was just a. . . Booty call, right now.

“Just a good shag.”

“No, Newt. You can’t keep seeing him.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because!” Brenda cried out. “You’re gonna hurt him! I know you will! I’ve heard the way you talk about the people you’ve fucked, Newt!”

“Shush, man. Lizzy’s sleeping and my parents can hear you.” The boy shook his head and grunted at Brenda. “I don’t shit talk the people I sleep with-”

Ben laughed.

So did Minho.

But Brenda, just glared even harder at her friend and grabbed his leg tightly.

“I was joking about him being good in bed, okay? We’re both pretty damn gay. But you fuck him around and I swear to God Newt. . .”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes.

“Don’t fuckin’ ‘yeah, yeah’ me. . . I’m leaving. Ben, you wanna ride home? I’m getting a taxi.” 

She stood up, pushed Newt’s legs off her and helped both Minho and Ben off Newt’s large bed. They both left with her, gently reminding her to stay calm and to talk to Newt when they were all sober.

Newt blinked once, twice, three times before he picked up his phone:

_Hey wanna come round?_

_Thomas: now?_

_Yeah_

_Thomas: sure i’ll be there soon :D_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for my short updates; I've had some personal issues come up. Also, having my work taken and altered without my permission threw me off writing for a bit and really upset me. It's not flattering, it's frustrating having work stolen. my hard work is taken and altered. fucking bullshit lmao. anyways, writing has been hard for me recently and I am beyond sorry.

Watching as Newt stood in the doorway of the bathroom (he had an en-suite. He was very fancy, Thomas had decided), Thomas watched him intently. His eyes shifting over every bare part of Newt’s body, taking him in so he could memorise this beauty for later. Maybe if Thomas ever decided to take up art, he would have pages and pages full of sketches of just. . . Newt. Every part of him was beautiful. 

Thomas didn’t know whether it was okay or not to be jealous over Newt and his looks.

He propped his head up on a pillow, using his elbows, and smiled up at Newt. The boy didn’t flash a smile back, instead taking that time to light a cigarette and walk into the bathroom. Thomas bit his bottom lip and nervously bit the inside of his cheeks.

The way Newt looked at him, it didn’t feel like he was gawking at him the way that Thomas was and it made Thomas flush red. He wasn’t as toned, he had a big crooked nose, not to mention that he wasn’t tall; Thomas was stubby. So he could understand why Newt wouldn’t look at him the same way.

“Can. . . Can I ask you a question, Newt?” Thomas spoke up, breaking their silence.

Thomas heard Newt’s heavy footsteps on the tiles in the bathroom, before he poked his head out and stared down at Thomas blankly. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Who’s that girl?”

“What ‘girl’?”

“Uhm. . . uh. . . The girl with the uh pink hair. . . Yeah, that girl.”

“A friend,” Newt replied with no hesitance.

Thomas nodded stiffly and sat up, his body weak; it felt as if his knees had gone to jelly and as if his head weighed more than the rest of his body. Wincing, he propped a pillow behind his back, keeping his eyes steady on Newt, who was now at the edge of his bed, pulling a pair of track pants on.

He moved with grace (well as much grace as he could muster) and Thomas took a moment to stare at him in complete and utter awe. Who allowed a man like Newt to be this beautiful, yet live here on earth and get caught up in all the dangerous things man had to offer; heavy drugs, alcohol, riding around on motorbikes ‘til the crack of dawn and other things that Newt probably did, but Thomas was unaware of.

“Am I your friend, too, Newt?” His voice cracked as he spoke, hoping to hear the answer ‘Yes! Of course you bloody are, ya git!’.

“No,” Thomas bit his tongue and stared down at the duvet, the cover now tight in between his fingers. “I don’t even really know you enough to consider you a friend. So, no.”

Thomas wanted to be something to Newt and if he had to be ‘just a friend’, then Thomas would take it. “Oh, uh. . . Okay. . . Do you have a favourite colour?”

Newt let out a heavy sigh, took another drag from his cigarette, before putting it out on the ashtray at his window sill. He shifted his gaze back to Thomas, before carefully climbing back onto his bed and crawling to Thomas. Holding himself over Thomas’ thighs, Newt leaned forward and kissed Thomas.

Their kiss was soft and slow, just the way Thomas liked it. He raked his fingers through Newt’s hair and let out a low hum of content.

Kissing Newt was Thomas’ heaven on earth.

Thomas hummed again, remembering the question he had asked and carefully pulled away, speaking quietly against Newt’s lips. “Red? Is that your favourite?”

Again, Newt said nothing and fully pulled away from Thomas, falling onto his back beside him. And for a spilt-second, Thomas worried that he had guessed his favourite colour wrong; and he’d said it with so much confidence, too.

Thomas wasn’t sure why he chose the colour red when there was a whole other plethora of colours he could’ve chosen instead.

“Red. . . Yeah, sure that’s my favourite colour.” Newt shrugged his hands now behind his head.

Thomas smiled brightly down at Newt.

“Wait, seriously? I got that right first try?” Thomas was giddy. He was awful at guessing games, but he got this first go. It felt like he had struck gold!

Newt’s favourite colour is red.

Can you believe that?

“Yup. First try. Red is my favourite colour.”

Thomas just let out another hum and leaned down, nestling into Newt’s chest and shuffling around so they were closer.

“Well my favourite colour is blue, isn’t that cool? Red and blue always look so good together. Isn’t that funny?” Thomas lay his palm flat against Newt’s tummy, still beaming brightly. “Okay, well, what’s your favourite song?”

“Fleetwood Mac’s Big Love,”

“Fleetwood Mac is cool! . . . Your favourite book?”

“I don’t read.”

“Oh, well that’s okay, too. What’s your favourite. . . Uh. . . food?”

Thomas kept firing our questions and Newt kept lazily answering him. He was beyond tired and only now just starting to sober up from his high.

“Well, do you have any questions for me? It’s okay if you don’t-”

“What time are you leaving?”

As soon as Thomas had heard that, his smile dropped, as did his good mood. He wasn’t expecting Newt to ask him that, maybe something along the lines of ‘do you play any sports?’, ‘what’s your favourite film?’, ‘do you like any cartoons?’ not that. So, the boy pulled away and shook his head, embarrassed.

“I overstayed, didn’t I? I-I’m really sorry.” Thomas stood up from Newt’s rather warm and cozy bed, to slip back into his clothes that lay a muck around Newt’s bedroom and even in his bathroom.

“No, no that’s not what I meant, Thomas. I meant, like, yknow, if you were staying the night or getting picked up? I didn’t wanna fall asleep and-” 

“It’s fine. I get it.” And Thomas was all too familiar with this procedure.

The amount of times that he had snuck into some boy’s bedroom and been kicked out all too rudely, would be impossible to count on just two hands. Thomas just accepted that that was how things were meant to be between two people (sometimes more, but Thomas never usually had control over that either). He never called anyone out on it. None of his exes or old best friend’s. No one because he was weak and clueless.

“Listen, I can take you home if you’d like,”

Thomas buckled up his pants, pulled a jersey on and was now tying his sneakers. “No, it’s fine.”

“So you’re getting picked up then?” Newt was now sitting up, staring at Thomas with genuine curiosity and concern.

“I’ll walk.” 

“This late? No, Thomas, that’s not safe.”

“Like you care.” 

The words just left Thomas and he felt embarrassed after saying them as if he wasn’t already embarrassed enough as it is.

“Of course I care. Just let me drive-”

Thomas pulled his overnight backpack over his shoulder and gripped the door handle, staring dead at Newt. It was slightly intimidating, but he looked less than impressed at Thomas’ stubbornness. “I’ll see ya ‘round. Just call me whenever you get horny or bored again, I guess.”

And with that, Thomas left.

He ran home as fast as he could, nervous that maybe someone was following him or watching him. Whilst Newt sat on his bed, wishing he’d bitten his tongue because Thomas was only trying to get to know him, but all Newt had done was push, push, push. That’s what he was good at. Pushing people away.

Chloe, once she had heard Thomas open the door she asked carefully, “What’re you doing back? Son, I thought you were at a sleepover. Did something bad happen?”

“It’s fine, Ma.” Thomas stood at the bottom of the stairs, still feeling embarrassed. 

“You know you can tell us anything, Thomas.” Anthony chimed in. 

The pair were watching TV, enjoying that small amount of time they got to themselves because the kids were all finally asleep. Thomas didn’t want to bother them. “Okay. Goodnight.”

“We’re talking about this in the morning!” Chloe had yelled as Thomas closed his bedroom door.

He felt so fucking stupid and embarrassed.

They both fell into an uneasy sleep plagued with odd dreams and a wake up that felt heavy, like a hangover.

 

The next day, Newt went to Liz’s school and complained, then going out and getting absolutely shitfaced with his friensd, whilst Thomas went out on the search for something pretty and red to apologise to Newt for being so rude.


	9. Chapter 9

“You wanna tell me ‘bout what happened last night?” Chloe asked, as Thomas rinsed his plate. “Comin’ home late?”

Thomas just shook his head and left his plate by the sink, to put in the dishwasher later. Right now, he had a feeling that he was going to get an earfull from his mother and father, who didn’t seemed too impressed with him stumbling through the front door at midnight, breathless. Thomas wasn’t sure what he was going to say to cover up that little incident, but surely he can think on his toes, he’s done it many, many times before. Though, Anthony could read Thomas like an open book, so he knew he had to be careful in how he worded his less than well planned out lie.

“It was nothing, Ma-”

“Don’t bullshit us, Thomas. If something’s going on, I think we deserve to know.” Anthony chimed in.

They both looked a mixture of cross and worried; upset that Thomas was now keeping things from them, as if he had always been 100% clean with them and worried, because good god what could’ve happened that made him want to leave? And Thomas could understand where his parents were coming from. Of course he could. But he wasn’t ready to out to himself to them yet and he was sure that he wasn’t ever going to tell his parents that he was sleeping with a boy who was going to, without a single doubt, break his heart.

“Listen, Teresa and I just got into a little heated arguement and then I came home. It was nothing.” After saying this, Thomas wanted to roll his eyes because that was fucking pathetic. Out of everything that he could’ve pulled from his ass, he chose that. Chloe and Anthony had Mary Agnes’ number and even knew where they lived, so they could fact check, too.

“Thomas. . .” Chloe said, her eyes narrowing with her lips pursed into a tight, thin line. “This isn’t like you, baby. Okay, we’re just worried.”

“Did you kill someone, Son? Is that it?” 

Thomas stared at his parents with wide eyes, resisting the urge to break out into laughter because what the fuck? And Thomas thought that the words he pulled from his ass were bad. . .

“Anthony, jesus christ! This is Thomas we’re talking about! Look at him!” Chloe waved a hand in front of Anthony and he let out a small laugh, obviously doing his dad duty of trying to lighten things up. Before then Chloe dropping her hand and eyeing Thomas suspisciously. 

“Ma! Seriously? Are you being serious? No I didn’t kill anyone! God, just the mention of blood makes me wanna vomit! C’mon!”

“Thomas killed someone?” An amused voice barked out.

There stood Chuck, who was holding a hand over his face as if Thomas killing someone (had he actually done it) was comedy gold. His tight curls bounced on his head, as his whole body shook from the laughter he was holding back.

Chuck was a sweet kid who had been sent to foster homes because of neglect from his parents and God knows what else, but that’s what Chloe told Thomas at least. He was a good kid, a bit annoying at times, but he had nothing but good intentions; he was Thomas’ anchor and reason to just keep going, sometimes. Chuckie always wore a bright smile and knew exactly what buttons to press that made you want to explode with annoyance.

“No Chuck, I didn’t kill anyone. Mum and dad are being weird.” Thomas shook his head and let out a sharp breath. “Thanks for breakfast, but I’m going back upstiars.”

Thomas felt utterly embarrassed and he knew damn well that that conversation was far from over, as his foster parents loved to get to the bottom of things, even if it meant tearing you limb from limb and scraping what little you had left off your bones. It got tiring a lot of the time, but Thomas just felt lucky to have parents that actually cared. It had restored his faith in people and gave him a reason to live; even if growing up around all these different little, (usually) annoying kids was too much, it still made him feel warm and fuzzy because he knew that his parents more than cared about him.

They loved him.

And they loved every child that they were/ are looking after.

Thomas wasn’t sure if Chloe and Anthony knew how much it meant to everyone who had passed through this household, to have them doing what they do. But it meant a whole lot. It meant the world, actually.

And as much as Thomas loved his foster parents, he still wasn’t going to come out to them.

 

She walked with her head high and her shoulders back, and a slight arrogance in her step, too. Just to let everyone know that what she was feeling wasn’t feelings of being cheated, or confused, or completely stretched thin, but instead feelings of confidence, light and ‘ _whatever you can do, I can do better_ ’.

This new facade came after speaking to her dad on the phone, again. Oh, how he pleaded and sobbed, as if it were Mary and Teresa’s fault that he had packed his bags one day and left.

Mary and Otto Agnes were married at the young age of 21 and they’d made the bold decision to move to America, where they could start a new life. They found themselves in a welcoming community of other German and Germanic speaking peoples. They were living in a nice house in the suburbs, had managed to snag jobs after not long of living there with Mary working in a pharmacy and Otto working as an accountant; their jobs were low paying at first, but their parents happily helped to keep them afloat, espcially when they found out that Mary and Otto were going to be parents.

Otto and Mary had fallen head over heels for Teresa and promised-no, solemly swore to never hurt her or let her get hurt. But that promise was soon broken a few years later, when Mary had come home to Otto, a ticket in one hand and a suitcase in the other.

‘ _Oh, Liebling, where are we off to?_ ’ Mary had asked, a glint in her eye, before Otto told her that it was for him and only him and that he was going back home. Without Mary and without his baby, Teresa.

Teresa can’t remember much, but she does remember a few tender moments that she’d had with her dad. Like the one time they went to the park, his hand in hers, where Otto let Teresa pick grass and flowers and place them very gently in his hair. Another time, when Otto taught Teresa how to fold washing. Which she very clumisly followed along to, ending up with another pile of clothes, but this one clean and unfolded. Teresa still beamed with pride and even showed Mary who smiled down at her adoringly.

Otto now wanted them back home, but Teresa didn’t want to leave. She couldn’t leave her friends and life behind for a man that didn’t love her. But, Teresa knew how in love Mary was and still is with Otto, so it wouldn’t surprise her if when she returned home, she found her mother with a packed suitcase ready to go.

It hurt.

It felt like Mary was betraying Teresa.

It felt like she was forgetting everything that he had put Mary through.

It felt like she was forgetting everything that he had put Teresa through.

She never had a dad she could rely on, never a cool step-dad either. Teresa and her mother had been abandoned by the only man that Teresa was supposed to love and maybe that’s why everything else right now hurt ten times more than it should.

It’s not that Teresa was downplaying being cheated on, but there was just so much feelings of being left alone by someone she loved that stuck with her. 

Teresa was madly in love with Brenda.

When Brenda had come around a few days ago, there was yelling and sobbing and then came heated, angry sex; with Brenda between her thighs, Teresa started thinking and then when Brenda left, she researched.

She typed into google, in as many different ways possible, if she should take Brenda back and it was a matter of opinion. Some users said no, some users said ‘go on. Give it a go’ (of course, not said quite like that, but summing it up, that’s what they were saying; if you think she’s right and worth it, try again).

And she just might, but she needed to talk to Brenda again.

“Hey! Just the girl I wanted to see!” Thomas beamed at Teresa, matching her pace just to keep up with her. “You’ve been walking in circles. You okay?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.” She replied dryly.

“Well, maybe you wanna think outloud? You seem. . . I dunno, upset.” Thomas grabbed Teresa’s hand and kissed it softly, making Teresa stop and stare at him. They ignored the passing bodies around them and just stared at each other, before Teresa smiled and pulled Thomas close to her.

Then, they just stood there, in the middle of the corridor, hugging tightly. They both had so many things that they needed to say, but the hug seemed to be enough for now, as Teresa whispered softly, “I love you, Tom.”

“I love you, too.” Thomas pulled back slowly and smiled softly, this time. “How ‘bout I walk you home after my track meeting?”

“Sounds good, babe.” And with that, they headed off to their last few classes. No more words exchanged.

 

“Good run, Tom! You ran 200 meters before needing your inhaler! That’s a great improvement!”

Thomas panted and leaned all of his weight on Teresa, who was rubbing his back carefully. His cheeks were bright red, as he took deep breaths from his inhaler and Newt watched with a smile almost creeping over his lips. He was pretending to tie his laces, just to watch as Teresa helped Thomas regain consciousness again and that’s when he really felt bad for being a total dick to Thomas.

He only wanted to know just so he could figure out if he needed anything extra for breakfast, or maybe he needed to grab Thomas a towel for a shower or even give him a ride back home. Newt didn’t regret a lot of things, but being that rude to Thomas when he was only being sweet- he regretted. He couldn’t imagine how it would feel to have that question spat back at his face.

The people Newt slept with couldn’t get enough of him and even begged him to stay longer, but not one of them had talked down to him like he had to numerous other people before. In fact, a lot of people talked highly of him- so highly that it had started to inflate his ego to a point where it got too much to handle.

He wasn’t who people thought he was and if they took off those rose tainted glasses and dug a little deeper, then they’d realise that he is nothing like what people say he is.

“You did great, hun!” Teresa cooed, earning herself a choked laugh from Thomas, who was still sputtering and wheezing.

Newt shook his head and snorted. 

“What?” Minho raised an eyebrow at Newt and looked down at him with a spark of amusement in his deep, deep brown eyes.

“Hm? Oh, nothing, man.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hurry up. I wanna get home. Ben’s waiting for me and fuck man, I am so getting laid tonight!” Minho punched the air before slapping Newt on his shoulder.

Newt nodded and followed Minho into the changing rooms and he resisted the urge to gag. It smelt like old socks, ass, and b.o.. It was fucking awful and Newt couldn’t believe that he probably smelt like old socks, ass and b.o., too.

He made his way to his locker and when he opened it, he was greeted with a surprise. A red sweater. It was neatly folded and left in his locker with a note on top of it- _‘You said that red is your favourite colour so I hope you can forgive me for being a dick to you with this gift. I’m sorry. I hope you like the jumper. It’s really cute and I think you’d look cute in it, too.  
-Thomas <3’_

Newt bit his lip and stared down at the note, his eyes glassy. Why the hell was Thomas apologising? He had every single fucking right to be angry at Newt, but this was sweet nonetheless. He went to pull out his phone to text Thomas, before Minho looked over his shoulder and chuckled. “Got yourself an admirer, huh?”

Newt didn’t say anything, he just nodded, made a mental note to thank Thomas later, before he then gathered all his belongings and shoved it into a bag.

“Is it from that kid you’re seeing? That Thomas guy? Or is it from Lucy?” Lucy being the pink haired girl that Newt said was just his friend to Thomas, when in reality she was an ex. They still saw each other for a quick fuck every now and then, but there was no feelings there, even Minho knew that.

“It’s from Thomas. Yeah.” He nodded and started undressing himself.

“Oohh, and there’s a note, too! Don’t mind if I do!” Minho pinched the letter from Newt’s bag and read it aloud, “ _You said that red is your favourite colour_ \- wait, so you’ve told this kid your favourite colour before telling me? Bro, I’m hurt!”

Newt just rolled his eyes and tried to snatch the note from Minho, but he was quick to pull it back into his chest, keeping it away from Newt’s needy hands.

“ _I’m sorry. I hope you like the jumper. . . It’s really cute and I think you’d look cute in it, too-_ ” Minho cut himself short when he barked out a loud laugh that rattled in the cold, concrete walls of the changing room, grabbing some of the team’s attention, too. “Dude, he is so fucking whipped! ‘You’d look cute in it, too’! Man! C’mon! Holy shit, Brenda is so going to fuckin’ kick your ass!”

Without saying a word, Newt managed to snatch back the note from Minho’s death grip and then whacked him right across the head.

Hearing Minho make fun of Thomas made Newt feel. . . Something. He did something nice and now he was getting shit for it? Newt hated that. He also remembers when Minho walked in on them fucking and laughed. Newt let him off that hook for that, guessing that he was already high, but Thomas spending money on Newt wasn’t something to laugh at.

In fact, it was something to treasure because yes sure, Newt sure did get a lot of sex and he liked that, but he also liked gifts. He thought it was somewhat romatic, not that he and romance worked hand in hand. But it was still a nice gesture and Newt appreciated the hell out of it. Newt was going to make sure to thank Thomas and give him the best fuck of his life (without him having an asthma attack, hopefully).

 

Teresa and Thomas were holding hands now, trying to keep each other warm, as they walked the same path that Thomas did everyday.

“Can I ask you a question, Resa?” Thomas piped up, breaking their silence.

“Ask away, Tom.”

“Am I the reason that you and Brenda won’t talk to me anymore? Like, did I do something wrong?”

How could it be his fault? Sure, Teresa and Brenda promised not to tell Thomas anything yet, but that didn’t mean that they had to cut him out of their lives completely. And that’s when Teresa felt another sinking in her gut- her shoulders slumped with her regret now evident.

“Thomas, you didn’t do anything, okay? We’ll tell you about it one day, but just. . . Not right now. But it certainly isn’t you and fuck, I can’t tell you how bad I feel. I love you, Tom and I mean that.”

“I know,” Thomas nodded, somewhat sadly. “I love you, too.”

He was out of the loop and Thomas hated being left out of the loop. It kind of hurt, too. Not knowing what was going on between his only two friends. Thomas understood that people could have their secrets, but if it was affecting a friendship, surely he should know.

Surely.

“I really am so sorry, Tom. I’ve just had things come up, too- and I know that is no excuse, but I hope you understand, baby.”

He really didn’t sometimes, but for Teresa’s sake he just nodded his head.

Teresa could sense his sudden mood change and decided to tell him about something else that had been happening in her life, “My dad called us. He wants us to go back to Germany.”

Thomas froze and stared at Teresa with wide eyes.

“What?”

“I’m not going. Trust me, I’m not, but I think mama is seriously thinking about it. . .”

“Jesus christ, Resa. I. . . I am so fucking sorry. . .” Thomas said, then leading Teresa to sit on a dampened bench. “When did this happen?”

“He called a while back and I didn’t tell you because I still can’t make sense of it. Like my dad called us after years and years of being MIA and ignoring us, like the plague. I can’t get my head around it.”

“I can’t imagine how you feel, holy hell. I. . .” Thomas shook his head, unsure of what to say.

“I mean, I know that I should be happy because that’s my dad and some people don’t even know their dads,” Teresa looked down at her hands and shook her head, letting out a heavy, long breath. “And here he is, calling us. . . But, he hurt us, y’know? I feel betrayed, honestly, because I think mama will pack us up soon and that’s that. Like my word won’t mean anything against hers. . . He hurt us, but love. . . Love is what’s gonna fuck this up. The one thing that I live for, is going to ruin our family. Again.”

Thomas, at a loss of words, wrapped a comforting arm around Teresa and before he knew it, she was crying. She had just spilled her heart out to him, so it only made sense to let her cry it out on his shoulder, as he rubbed her back and cooed softly in her ear.

The pair stayed like this for a minute, Teresa wanting to spill her whole heart to Thomas, but refusing to do instead. She refused to hurt Thomas.

A soft ‘ding’ came from Thomas’ phone.

Newt <3: thanks for the sweater  
Newt <3: come to mine so i can thank you personally ;)  
I’m busy right now but tomorrow? :)  
Newt <3: sure

“Who’s that?” Teresa tried peering over Thomas’ shoulder, snivelling softly.

“Oh, it’s just my ma. . . You wanna get dinner instead of going home?”

“Yeah, that sounds really nice.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had pretty busy holidays and a total lack of motivation to write- so I apologise for my late, unedited && short update. Hope you're all having a lovely 2019!

Thomas had made a promise to himself to stop trying to actively find Newt at school; he made a promise to stop his feelings from getting hurt and so whenever he did see Newt, he would be quick to turn away. It was a shame that Newt was so unpredictable and so goddamn horny, because then at least Thomas could stare at him dreamily and doodle their names together over his notes without worrying that he was going to see something he didn’t want to. But, the last time Thomas saw Newt at school, he was all over somebody else. And it hurt. A lot.

Yes, Thomas knows that they aren’t dating, hell Newt doesn’t even consider Thomas a friend. But that still doesn’t stop Thomas’ feelings from being hurt, even though he knows what Newt is like. Everybody at school knows what Newt is like. Even people at other schools know what Newt is like. It’s unfortunate that Thomas had to fall for him, when there were plenty of other boys for him to gawk over, but Newt had him in pieces.

“The, uhm, the jersey.” New started, after Thomas had invited himself in and sat on his bed. He made sure to keep his distance, not sure whether Newt still wanted to touch him or not. “It’s nice.”

“If you don’t like it, it’s okay. I’ll just take it to an op-shop or something-” Thomas said, leaning forwards to take the jersey from out of Newt’s hands, but Newt was quick to pull the jersey out of Thomas’ reach.

“No. Don’t. I want it.” Newt dropped his hands and played with the sleeves of the jersey, his eyes soft on Thomas.

Thomas had never seen Newt soften like this and it made him smile to himself. So without thinking he shuffled closer to get a better look at the boy. Thomas couldn’t help his staring, he didn’t even move his eyes away when Newt looked up at him and furrowed his brows together, frowning.

“I’m sorry, Newt. I shouldn’t have been so rude, but it just. . . that was kind of hurtful is all.” His apology came out soft and meek, but it was just loud enough for Newt to hear.

“No, no don’t apologise. It was rude. I. . .” Newt sighed and shook his head before muttering, “I should apologise.”

“You? Apologise? To me? Where’s the real Newt? Blink twice if you need help,” Thomas laughed because he’d never heard of Newt apologising to anyone. Even the poor kid who had ended up in hospital after Newt broke his nose during p.e. by throwing a basketball too hard.

Newt frowned and lightly thwacked Thomas’ bicep muttering ‘oh shut up’. He shook his head and placed the jersey on the ground, only for him to shuffle closer to Thomas, his breath heavy. 

“I’m not good with words. I just do, y’know? . . . Actions.”

Thomas smiled and nodded, but that smile was soon wiped off his face when Newt leaned in and kissed him. Newt kissed Thomas hard. The kiss had Thomas’ knees weak, his body trembling at the feeling and he let Newt do anything that he wanted to him. Thomas expected it to be rough and leave him sore later on, but Newt was nothing but gentle and awfully touchy, too. A lot more touchy than usual.

Thomas wondered what the hell he had done to deserve this.

Then he remembered the jersey on the floor.

 

 

Minho stood in Newt’s kitchen, trying his absolute hardest not to crack and burst out into hysterics. He’d bumped into Thomas leaving Newt’s, the pair brushing shoulders at the end of the drive, his neck covered in hickies, his cheeks still a flaming red and Minho knew exactly what had gone down. Even a blind man could see what was going on and Minho knew damn well how pissed Brenda was going to be when she found out.

So, being the wise cracking bloke that he is, Minho invited Brenda around to Newt’s for a smoke without telling him.

“You fucking prick! You better stop seeing him, Newt! I warned you before! This isn’t funny, Minho!” Brenda was having the time her life, high as hell, before Minho subtly pointed out that he’d seen Thomas leave Newt’s beforehand. Now, here she was, pacing around Newt’s kitchen lecturing the pair (mainly Newt).

Newt went bright red and sent Minho the harshest glare he could muster whilst high.

“He’s his own person, Brens. He can do what he wants and who he wants! You’re not his fuckin mother, are ya?” Newt yelled back in retaliation. It hurt having a friend, a best friend tell you that you aren’t good enough for someone. Newt didn’t want to admit it aloud, but it stung, even though he could understand 100% where she was coming from.

“It’s my job as a friend to protect him from dickheads like you!” Brenda spun around on her heels and pointed an accusing finger at Minho as well. “You fucking too, Minho.”

“Can’t name the last time I saw you two together, Brenda. Don’t know why you’re turning on two of your best friends, when he doesn’t even know half of the shit you get up to.” Minho tutted and shook his head, expecting this to be a shit storm for just Newt that he could chuckle at, but now he also felt slightly hurt by Brenda’s ‘lecturing’.

Brenda tensed up and swallowed thickly. The room had fallen completely silent.

“I get it, Brenda. But if you really think that lowly of Minho and especially me, then you can leave. Can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t respect me or the fact that I do quite like Thomas. I’ve got no intentions of hurting him.” Newt said, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from yelling and causing even more confrontation.

“I’m sorry, okay? But your history is just. . . I love him and I don’t want him to get fucked around by another guy. He doesn’t deserve that.” 

“Another? What do you mean?” Minho chimed in, furrowing his brows. Surely Thomas hadn’t been played more than once or twice.

Brenda didn’t say anything for a moment, but instead just let silence blanket the room, “Just be thoughtful please.”

And then she was gone.

Minho turned to look at Newt, no trace of a smile on his face. “You ‘quite like’ Thomas? Man, what is goin’ on?”

Minho shook his head and Newt just waved his hand dismissively, walking outside. Minho followed suit. Newt stuck a hand down his jacket, his hands digging through his pockets. With a small triumphant sound and smile, Newt held up a packet of cigarettes and shook it in front of Minho, but Minho just shook his head again.

“What?” Newt snatched a lighter from the table and sat on the back stairs, taking a long, somewhat relieved, drag. “Don’t listen to Brens. You know how she gets when she’s upset and when she gets all protective and shit.”

Minho sat beside Newt and swallowed thickly. He’d had a lot on his mind and Brenda getting upset at the pair of them was just the cherry on top.

“I don’t care. . . Let’s get pissed tonight.”

Newt smiled brightly and slapped Minho on the back, “Now that’s what I like to hear!”

 

Resa <3: going to a party tonight. wanna come?

can’t sorry :(

Resa <3: what baby why :(

Got lots of study and my ma wants me to play for chuck’s birthday :D

Resa <3: omg youre finally gonna play in front of your family

Resa <3: what song??

Im playing happy birthday

Resa <3: omg have fun. ill come around tmr to give chuckie and bday gift. I love you!!

love you too resa 

 

Thomas put his phone down and smiled. It felt indescribably good to be close with Teresa again, but something was missing. Brenda. Brenda is what was missing. Thomas still had no idea what the hell had happened between herself and Teresa for them to barely be talking. It scared Thomas because Brenda wouldn’t even reply to his own messages.

He was used to her lack of replies or, rather, very blunt replies but complete radio silence was never like Brenda. She wouldn’t even look at Thomas or if she did, she’d shoot him an awkward, tight smile before quickly turning her head away and pick up conversation with whoever was closest to her.

Thomas’s smile faltered whenever he thought about Brenda (he’d given up trying to text her or talk to her at school. She wouldn’t budge) and it hurt. He used to beam and even the mere thought of his two best friends because they made him happy and they were his first, true friends.

Closing his history book, Thomas checked his watch and stood up. He picked up his violin and walked downstairs.

“Am I playing before or after cake, Dad?” Thomas asked,walking into the kitchen, which had become complete madness. All of Rachel’s aunties (Thomas didn’t feel comfortable enough calling them his own aunties, uncles, cousins or grandparents) and other family members were rushing around the kitchen, yelling at each other and carefully shooing kids away from the food.

They had all come to celebrate Chuck’s birthday and it made Thomas’ heart flutter at how warm Chloe’s family was; how welcoming and how quick they were to make the foster kids feel like family. Like this is where they belong.

“Could you play when we bring it out? You know how hard it is to keep this family from eating?” Anthony chuckled and went back to frosting Chuck’s two tier chocolate cake, before carefully placing edible flowers on the second cake because one cake wouldn’t be enough to feed their family.

“Yeah, sure!”

 

After dinner, which was just as chaotic as the kitchen and prep, Chuck screamed out for cake. Everyone sat around eagerly and Thomas played, with shaky hands, scared that his family would laugh at him. But it turns out that nobody but Rachel was listening, the cake seemed to be a bigger distraction.

Thomas knew that he should’ve been upset, but he wasn’t. In fact, he was rather. . . Pleased. Usually, Thomas couldn’t play in front of people, but he didn’t trip up, pee his pants, freak out, or cry like he usually would’ve done. He felt confident and it felt so good.

He made a mental note to tell Teresa about this.

“Want come cake, hun?” An Aunty, Gracie, asked.

Thomas’ phone vibrated in his pocket, so quickly apologising, Thomas stood up and answered the call. Immediately he was greeted with soft sobs and sniffles.

“Thomas?”

“Brenda. . .”

“I. . .I’ve fucked up. I’ve really fucked up.”

 

The first time in a few weeks when Brenda and Thomas meet again, it’s Thomas holding Brenda, rocking her gently. The pair were in her room, with the window wide open, allowing a cold breeze to swee through her room.

Brenda seemed inconsolable; she was in hysterics. Sobbing and coughing and whenever Thomas asked her why she was so upset, it just resulted in her either sobbing harder or choking out incoherent sentences. It worried Thomas, so he just rocked her on his lap gently and played with her hair.

And he did that until she ended up falling asleep.

Knowing that he had told his parents that he was sleeping over, Thomas crept into George’s room and asked if it was okay to crash on the couch to which he was allowed to do. So, as quietly as he could, Thomas turned on the TV and laid himself out on the couch waiting for sleep to overcome him, but his mind was busy. Too busy for his liking.

First, Newt kind of apologised to him and then asked whether or not Thomas would come with him on Saturday to help him shop for Liz’s birthday (because Thomas was apparently great at gift giving). Second, Teresa’s probably going to move. And lastly, Brenda was a mess. A sobbing mess and it scared Thomas because he didn’t know why.


	11. Chapter 11

“Hey, you’re finally awake. . .” Thomas smiled softly at Brenda, sitting upright on the couch and placing his mug of steaming tea on the coffee table. He made sure to keep his voice soft and he also made sure to watch what he said and how he said it. Thomas would hate to have Brenda crying again. “You feeling okay?”

“I-” Brenda hesitated, rubbed her temples then sat down beside Thomas.

“You worried me last night, Brens. I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be worried, Tom. I just. . . I got a bit drunk and realised some stuff that I should’ve been dealin’ with sober. I’m sorry.” 

Thomas shrugged and shook his head, to dismiss her apology. It wasn’t that he wanted an apology, he just wanted to know what the hell was going on. First Teresa and now Brenda. . . Surely something was going on that Thomas hadn’t been told about. Well, there was.

Amongst wanting to know Thomas also kind of didn’t want to know; he was scared that the answer he was going to get would upset him, too.

“It’s fine, but. . . Can I ask you a question?”

Brenda looked up at Thomas, her honey brown eyes staring straight into Thomas’. She looked vulnerable and scared, like now she didn’t want to know what he was going to say. “Sure, babe.”

“Are we still friends?” And after asking this, Thomas found himself enveloped in Brenda’s arms. In one of her infamous bear-chokehold-am-I-hugging-you-or-plotting-to-kill-you hug, which made Thomas sigh. He missed her deathgrip hugs.

“Oh my god, of course we are. You’re my best friend. I’ve just been dealin’ with my own problems. It’s been a lot, yknow?” 

Thomas nodded but didn’t say anything more because he wasn’t sure what to say. So he stayed sat on the couch, sipping his tea, trying not to blurt the one question that was on the tip of his tongue: ‘why didn’t you go with Teresa last night? Why won’t you two even look at each other now?’

 

Thomas decided against sitting with Teresa today because during their first break, she was sitting with the other butch and femme lesbians (one of the girls had her eyes on Teresa and made that very clear, which made Thomas cringe) then at lunch she was sitting with Newt and Minho. Jesus Christ, what was going on? 

Teresa didn’t like that one girl, Marina, very much. She was pushy and never took no for an answer. God, Brenda and a few of the other girls from that group had even gotten into a fight with Marina over the fact that she’d shown up to Teresa’s after school when she very clearly said no. But the rest of the group, Thomas didn’t mind. They were very sweet, but Teresa never usually liked to sit with them. And now, she’s all buddy-buddy with other people she doesn’t like? Thomas didn’t even want to try to make sense of what the fuck she was playing at.

So, instead of trying to figure her out, he just sat in the music room and played. He played new songs and old songs; he played hard and loud, too which took a lot out of him at times, but he loved it. He loved the thrill of classical music and being able to play it.

The music playing helped distract him, took his mind off things and the second his mind starting drifting, he’d carefully bring himself back to the music. 

Right now he was playing Antonín Dvořák’s Serenade, which always sent Thomas to heaven, but something was off. There always was something off whenever he played.

“That’s one of my favourites,”

Thomas jumped at the voice that spoke the second he’d stopped playing. He turned around and there stood a girl he’d never seen before. Her hair was pulled neatly back into a bun, a bright smile on her face.

“I’m sorry to scare you, Thomas! I didn’t mean to, I even scared myself a bit there.” She chuckled under her breath, the smile on her face never falling.

“Uhm, how do you know my name? Have. . . Have we met before?” He asked, already embarrassed if she had turned around and said ‘Why yes. We met just yesterday!’.

“Oh god, right, sorry. My name is Sofia and I’m in the school orchestra. I’ve been doing some scouting because we’re running a bit low on the strings, so, I uh, asked Ms. Paige who the best of the best were and your name came up!” She, Sofia, grinned. “I think you’re absolutely brilliant!”

Thomas felt his cheeks warm up and he was sure that he was blushing now. “You think so?”

“Oh fuck yes! Don’t know why you haven’t joined yet!”

Thomas felt his heart drop. Did he really want to say why he hadn’t even looked the school orchestra’s way? Did he really want to admit that he was deathly afraid of performing in front of others? No, he didn’t.

Shrugging somewhat lazily, Thomas cleared his throat. “Have you asked Teresa? She’s pretty good too y’know? She’s strings.”

“Thomas, I don’t want Teresa, I want you. Thomas. Not her. To join.” Sofia played with the binder that she was hugging against her chest. “So? What’d ya say?”

Thomas bit his lip and shrugged again because he really wasn’t sure.

“Just come along tomorrow after school. Bring your violin. You might like it.” And with that Sofia was out of the room, leaving Thomas alone to debate whether he was going to go or not.

This was definitely something he was going to ask his parents for advice on.

 

Thomas overthought the smallest of things and things that others could easily decide within a few measely seconds; Thomas’ therapist said he was anxious. Said he had issues that neither of them were quite sure of yet but Thomas knew it was because of the system and the families he’d been stuck with.

It hurt him not knowing anything about his parents and instead being forced to call people family when they don’t even share the same blood as you and sometimes won’t even look at you like a son.

 

Thomas ended up going to the after-school meeting Sofia spoke about, but there was very little playing and all the playing that was done, Thomas just sat and listened in, in complete awe. The longer he sat there and watched as everyone smiled at each other, laughed with one another, even starting conversation with him, the more Thomas wanted to join; he wanted to be apart of something. Something great, like the orchestra. He wanted to be doing what he loved and he also wanted to make new friend whilst doing it.

When Thomas had gotten home he was grinning from ear to ear, telling his mum all about it. Even Anthony and little Chuck listened in eagerly, as they tended the three younger children they were fostering. He told them how much he wanted this. How much he craved this. And goddamnit he was going to join and be the best in the strings, even if his crippling fear still had him in a chokehold.

But Thomas wanted this. He didn’t want to give this opportunity up, especially after being asked specifically by someone to join. 

So, after talking about how wonderfully amazing his day was and finishing homework, he played his heart out. He played ‘til he forgot about Brenda, ‘til he forgot about Teresa and the parents he never knew. But no matter how hard he played, Newt always found a way to creep up from his steady beating heart, into his brain.

Thomas played not only for himself, but for Newt; a boy who would never love him back.

 

 

“So,” Thomas started, his eyes shifting around the jam-packed mall. “What does Liz like?”

“Footy. I wanna get her footy stuff, but also. . . God, I don’t know, Thomas. That’s why I invited ya. Thought you might have an idea.” Newt huffed.

The car ride to the shopping centre was awkward and stiff, but Thomas tried to keep some conversation going. Thomas knew though that Newt didn’t want to be his friend, that they were just fuck-buddies, or a booty call.

“Okay, well let’s find some sporty stores. Does she like reading? Dolls? Pink? Anything?” Thomas was shopping for a kid he only knew the name of and Newt was no help at all. They were both as clueless as each other, which proved as no help.

A look of panic spread over Newt’s face at the question and he stuttered out a reply, “Uh, I, reading? Maybe? I think. And she likes the colour. . . pi-no, I’m gonna take a shot in the dark and say purple. And she. . . She wears dresses, too. . .”

“You’re hopeless, Newt. This is your sister!” Thomas shook his head and tutted before letting out a breath. “Let’s look at soccer stuff then we’ll go to a bookstore or outfitters or something.”

Newt nodded and they took off towards a sporty store that Thomas wouldn’t be caught dead in. God even being in there he could feel his asthma playing up, but Newt was quick to distract him by pulling him towards a rack of soccer, football and basket balls.

“Which one do you think she’d like?” Newt only had the choice of a bright pink and white soccer ball.

Thomas let out a sigh. This was going to be a long day.

 

They ended up shopping for Liz for a few hours, buying her new soccer boots, a new soccer ball, a few Geronimo Stilton books (which Thomas chose), and a few cute dresses. Thomas had never shopped with such an indecisive person before; it took Newt far too long to choose which dresses he’d think Liz would like, even choosing what to have for lunch was painful. Fuck the Gods that the food court had more than one option because as Thomas’ stomach growled, Newt was still in between getting a curry or a burger, until Thomas yanked his arm and made the decision for him. Pizza.

“So,” Newt started with a mouthful of pizza, his lips covered in grease and sauce. It took everything in Thomas not to jump over the table and kiss Newt silly. “What’s with the shirt? I thought you were gay.”

“Huh?” Thomas furrowed his eyebrows before glancing down at his shirt, a smile on his face.

His shirt read, ‘how to pick up chicks’ with a stickman literally picking up a baby chick. It aways made Thomas chuckle whenever he wore it.

“Oh, well I think it’s funny, but also, it was one of the cheaper shirts, yknow? I don’t shop often, but when I do it’s rather cheaply.” Thomas bit his lip and shrugged. “And I’m still gay, don’t worry.”

Newt didn’t say anything, he just nodded and took another bite from his slice of pizza.

“Yknow . . . I still kinda owe you, so if you wanna look ‘round some shops we can.”

Thomas just shook his head, both baffled and flattered by his statement. “It’s okay, but thank you-”

“Thomas? What are you doing here?” A voice cried out and both Newt and Thomas’ heads shot up and around the food court.

Rachel walked over to their table, a bright smile plastered over her face, before them grimacing at the sight of Newt. Both her, Aris and Beth stood around the table, seemingly to be intimidating, but it just made Thomas want to laugh.

Newt was unbothered by it all.

“Beth, Rachel, Aris. . . How are you all?” Newt purred, eyeing all three of them up like prey.

Rachel leaned down and let out a growl, “If you fuck this up, Newt, I’m gonna end you.”

“Woah, Rach, what the hell are you doing?” Thomas stood up and grabbed her by her shoulders, carefully pulling her away from Newt, who didn’t even flinch. 

“Just. . . Seeing you with him makes my brain rot. He’s gross.” Rachel tutted and shook her head.

“Leave him alone. He isn’t, okay? We’re just here to do some shopping for his sister. That’s it. And I’m an adult, Rachel. I can be with whoever I want. How did you know I was here anyway?” 

“Oh, I didn’t! Just came out here to buy a new charger. But if you need a ride home, just say, okay?” She backed off but decided to sit right next to Newt and Thomas to eat lunch.

It felt tiring for both Newt and Thomas because not feeling as if you aren’t competent enough to choose someone to be with is upsetting. It belittled and invalidated Thomas’ feelings, too. If he was going to get hurt in the end, well then that’s for the pair to deal with. It’s no one else’s business. And for Newt, feeling like you’re never good enough to be with anyone was a real blow to his ego and feelings. It hurt always being labelled ‘gross’ or ‘hurtful’ when that was never always the case.

Not that he’d ever admit it, but Newt was pretty damn fond of Thomas but he just knew that anything involving feelings would end in flames.

So, out of spite of Rachel and to soothe Thomas who looked beyond uncomfortable, Newt grabbed Thomas’ right hand and kissed his palm softly, before kissing his fingers tips, then the top of his hand and he watched as Thomas’ face flushed. He bit his bottom lip, repressing a coy laugh and smile, forgetting Rachel who was watching the pair with furrowed eyebrows.

Newt never ever did PDA and he would never do it again, but neither Rachel nor Thomas needed to know that.

“Should we go home and wrap these presents, _Tommy_?”

Without even saying a word, knowing what Newt was hinting at, Thomas nodded eagerly and stood up, a slice of pizza still in hand.

Before they left, Thomas mouthed to Rachel, ‘ _please don’t tell ma_ ’.


End file.
